War Story
by emication
Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets sent to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell.
1. Part 1

+ Title: War Story - Part 1  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Major Heero Yuy could not believe the devastation he saw the second he got to the city. Buildings were demolished - nothing left but a steel skeleton - yet the people moved about their daily business, heads held high as if nothing could strike them down. London had been suffering from Nazi bombing raids for so long that the country's resources were spread thin between defending the homeland and helping fight on the front lines with the rest of the Allied nations. The United States had only recently began to send the much-needed aid to Great Britain, and along with the provisions, Heero Yuy was the man they thought could defend London.  
  
Heero learned how to fly early on in his life. His father had piloted in the First World War, and despite the memories that resurfaced, the senior Yuy shared his passion with his young son. It was only natural for Heero to join the United States Air Force when they were asking for any able-bodied men to sign up. He had the experience, even if he hadn't flown in a battle before. Heero was readily accepted, soon rising the top of his training squadron.  
  
During the offensive in North Africa, Heero flew in raids and dogfights, scoring enough kills to earn up to the rank of major. Most of the other pilots that trained alongside of him were killed in their first couple missions. He was one of the few left.  
  
The lieutenant driving him to his assigned headquarters was weaving a particular route, giving Heero a complete overlook of the destruction the Nazis lay on the city. He thought of his own home back in a suburb of Chicago, a half hour drive from his childhood home where his father taught him how to fly a small red biplane. Almost instantly he could see Chicago in the same ruins. Which of his friends or coworkers would die if the Nazis should ever get over to the United States? Pearl Harbor had been a frighteningly close call. America was lucky that the Japanese only went after Hawaii.  
  
"What do you think, sir?" asked the lieutenant from behind the wheel, his gaze flashing to meet Heero's in the rearview mirror before focusing back on the road.  
  
The major couldn't help but smirk. "Those Nazi bastards won't know what hit them."  
  
"The colonel's been saying that you're the right man for the job." 'His face still looks young,' Heero couldn't help but observe. 'Fresh recruit...hasn't seen battle outside of the bombing raids.'  
  
They pulled up to a building with a metal gate surrounding it, a pair of guards standing on either side of the drive. The lieutenant handed over an identification card and the papers clearing Heero's orders before they opened the gate, letting the car through.  
  
"A metal gate doesn't protect from Nazi bombs," Heero pointed out.  
  
"I think they want the illusion of security more than anything," his companion replied, pulling the car into park in front of the main building.  
  
No sooner than Heero stepped out of the automobile did a slightly older man in a highly decorated uniform exit to meet them. Recognizing the insignia of a British Air Force colonel on the uniform, Heero snapped to attention, standing ramrod straight with a hand at his brow.  
  
"Major Heero Yuy reporting for duty, sir," he said with less gusto than was required in the training squads. The colonel saluted in response, signally for Heero to relax and follow him.  
  
"Lieutenant Nichol will put your suitcases in your assigned quarters. If you come with me, I will give you the tour." Colonel Marquise's tone spoke more of elegance and aristocracy that the lieutenant's had. Marquise obviously had a higher-class upbringing, and it made Heero wonder if he paid his way up to colonel or earned it.  
  
"If you don't mind, Colonel…"  
  
"Please, Major, I would like us to be friends. Call me Zechs, and allow me to call you Heero."  
  
"Yes, si- Zechs. Thank you. I was wondering if I could see what planes you have available and then I'll retire to my quarters. It's been a long trip, and I'd rather take in all the information tomorrow when I have more energy."  
  
"Of course. The hangar and run ways are in this direction." Zechs turned them to behind the building, and after a quarter of a mile that reached outside London, they arrived at the main hangar. "We have six different models of your American planes, so there should be something you're familiar with."  
  
Heero's deep blue gaze scanned the area. He counted off the different bombers and fighters, making a mental note of which theater of combat each one could be used in. There were three different models of each, the bombers being B-24 Liberators, B-25 Mitchells, and B-26 Marauders. Heero preferred the Mitchell of the three since it could double as a fighter plane if necessary. The fighters were P-38 Lightnings, P-40 Warhawks, and P-47 Thunderbolts. He'd trained in the Lightning and Warhawk, but had only fought with the Thunderbolt. P-47s could handle more damage and tended to be used when defense was thought to be heavy.  
  
"How many are battle-ready?"  
  
"Three P-38s, one P-40, five P-47s, four B-24s, two B-25s, and one B-26. We originally had half a squadron of each, but since then fifteen have been destroyed in battle, four are being worked on, and one was damaged beyond repair. Trowa will be in tomorrow if you'd rather speak to him about it. He would know the details the best."  
  
Heero nodded, partially paying attention as he went over the amount of ammunition that was available in the battle-ready planes. "I'll want to look at the damaged planes tomorrow. We might need to strip them for the parts and ammo instead of spending the money on new parts."  
  
"I'll have it arranged with Trowa tomorrow morning." Zechs extended his hand to Heero. "I hope you're as good as your commanding officers said you are."  
  
"Me too," he replied, wondering how a defensive could be formed against squadrons of Nazi bombers with only nine bombers and seven fighters of their own.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 1 


	2. Part 2

+ Title: War Story - Part 2  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
At dinner that evening Heero sat alone at a table when he heard approaching footfalls. "Major Yuy?" the voice sounded like all the other young and eager recruits who wanted the chance to lay their eyes on a pilot who had actually flown in battle. "May I sit down?"  
  
Heero waved a hand dismissively, not caring how the other interpreted the action. He could hear a tray being set down in front of him and looked up to study his new companion. The other appeared a little younger than him, if by only a couple years; his blond hair was worn short, unlike Colonel Marquise, and his eyes were a bright turquoise. Heero had trouble placing his accent as the other shook his hand and introduced himself.  
  
"My name is Quatre Raberba Winner, and it's an honor to be flying with as esteemed a pilot as yourself."  
  
Heero rubbed as his temples. 'No wonder the UK needs our help.' "Have you flown in battle before, Quatre?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Did you hear about the fighter that has been damaged beyond repair? That was me. I'm lucky to have managed to land it at all. Trowa would have had my head if I was hurt..."  
  
"Are you a good pilot, Quatre?"  
  
The blond man seemed slightly miffed before he figured out how to answer the question. "I'm one of the few that started here who's still alive. Trowa injured his leg and can't fly anymore, and most of the others that are still alive are on the front line, but I volunteered to stay and guard London."  
  
"Because it's your home?"  
  
Quatre shook his head, laughing slightly. "No, I'm actually the renegade son of a wealthy Moroccan merchant who wanted to do something better with his life than run a business. When I told my father I wanted to fly against the Nazis, he more or less disowned me, so here I am."  
  
'So that explains the hint of an accent... He's good if he can hide it that well.' Heero observed his companion with an amused expression. "I like you, Quatre."  
  
"Th-thank you, sir!"  
  
"No, call me Heero. It's reassuring to know I'm not just dealing with fresh recruits. Do you have any specialties?"  
  
"Strategy, but usually Colonel Marquise gets to decide our moves."  
  
Heero sat back in his chair, thinking for a moment. "You'll be my wing. Any strategic opportunities you spot *will* be followed through on. The problem with the military is that the people with the power don't necessarily have the brains."  
  
Quatre was blushing slightly now. "Thank you, Heero."  
  
"Just don't let me down."  
  
"I won't," Quatre promised solemnly. "Oh! I almost forgot why I approached you to begin with!" He reached into his pocket, pulling out a white envelope. "You haven't been here a day and already you're receiving mail."  
  
Heero took the letter, surprised yet not surprised at the same time at the sight of the familiar cursive spelling out his name and address on the front. "Relena..."  
  
"Who is she?" Quatre asked, curiosity written all over his expression.  
  
"My wife," Heero replied simply, not hesitating to open and read what she had written.  
  
// My dearest Heero;  
  
I hope you aren't upset. If you're reading this, I must have anticipated correctly where they'd be sending you. How many Air Force bases can there be near London, after all? I hope you are doing well and meeting new people, even though I know you despise making friends during wartime. It will give you something to occupy your time and mind so you won't be by yourself missing me all the time, as much as I'd like to think you are.  
  
It's been the usual around here. I bought a new radio to listen to the news on the war effort. There are rumors of the government trying to create a weapon that will end the whole war in one battle, but there hasn't been any official information released yet.   
  
I hope you can find the time to get word back to me. It's scary not knowing if you're all right or not. I dread the thought of getting a letter telling me you died in service. You wouldn't want to do that to your poor mother, would you? Mrs. Jenkins had her baby and then the next day she received a letter saying her husband had died in Africa when his tank was hit by a German bomber. I wish you could stay at home where I know you are safe, but you are doing the right thing, no matter how selfish I want to be in locking you up at home.  
  
I'm proud of you. Please come back to me as soon as possible.  
  
Love always,  
  
Relena //  
  
"How long have you been married?" Quatre asked when Heero was stuffing the letter back in the envelope.  
  
"Barely two years," he replied. "We were married two weeks before I shipped out for Africa. I thought it would give me another reason to fight."  
  
"Don't you love her?" Quatre seemed astounded by the idea that anyone could marry someone without being in love first.  
  
Heero shrugged. "I care for her, and she loves me. We were friends growing up, and when she started to fall in love with me, our parents conspired about how perfect we would be for each other. I wasn't going to argue. It seemed honorable to fight for your wife, and she was really the only choice."  
  
Blond eyebrows arched interrogatively. "So you married her more out of convenience?"  
  
"I guess so," Heero twitched in his seat, not comfortable talking about private matters. He knew that is was foolish, but it made both of their parents happy, and it made Relena happy, so he might as well just stick it out.  
  
Quatre stood up suddenly, the chair he vacated flying back a good five feet. "I was supposed to meet Trowa outside fifteen minutes ago!" He hurriedly put his tray to leave before returning to the table. "You should come with me. You can meet Trowa and get to know London a little better. We're going to watch the newsreels at a local theater. I haven't heard any of the latest *official* news in weeks."  
  
Heero knew he should really go to bed since he was tired and it was going to be a long day tomorrow, but he was curious as to what information the military and government were letting civilians hear about. Heero stood, putting away his tray.  
  
'This way I can talk to Trowa and Quatre away from listening ears and get the real information on this squadron I have on my hands.' Heero followed Quatre down the hall and out the door. 'At least then I will be prepared for whatever I voluntarily got myself into.'  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 2 


	3. Part 3

+ Title: War Story - Part 3  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Trowa Barton, as he had been introduced to Heero, was a tall, athletic looking man around Heero's age with deep emerald eyes and an odd fall of hair that covered half of his face. When he spoke Heero could detect traces of a Scottish accent, and he walked with a limp on his right leg. The major couldn't see why the injured leg prevented Barton from flying - especially if he was even half as good a bomber pilot as Quatre suggested - but Heero had also heard Trowa was a damned good mechanic, which was hard individual to come by during wartime.  
  
He also seemed closed off at first, but Trowa quickly relaxed in Quatre's presence, the pair seeming to always be in contact with each other. It did make Heero a little suspicious that the two men were so casual together, but he knew how quickly friendships were formed during hard times because it was easier than facing the realities of the world alone.  
  
The nearby theater had a large screen and was relatively empty for a Saturday evening. They sat in the back, which was fine with Heero since being near the exit made him feel better should a raid begin in the middle of the show.  
  
The newsreels were black and white, going over events such as the bombing in France, the current activities of the Allied front lines, and a look in one of the Jewish ghettos in Poland. The people looked like skeletons: sick children lying in the streets, begging and pleading and crying for food or freedom. The ever-present yellow stars were pinned to their clothing, shreds of fabric much too torn to keep them warm in the approaching winter months. The newsreel then continued to show a montage of the abuse the Gestapo laid down on anything that crossed their path. One particularly disturbing clip was of a young officer "proving himself" by emptying a barrel into a dog, then proceeding to beat the child who had been walking it.  
  
Heero looked over at his companions, noting how Quatre was peeking through his fingers - horrified yet unable to look away. Trowa was caressing the nape of his neck soothingly. On the battlefield the horrors were different. It was soldiers versus soldiers, no matter how you looked at it, but the Nazis attacked people, taking away the anonymity of war.  
  
Roughly an hour and a half after it began, the newsreel ended with a list of ways civilians could help the war effort, which included Victory Gardens and not buying gasoline when they could walk to their jobs or use public transportation.  
  
'It's the same as back home,' Heero thought as the house lights were turned back on. 'Only in London people have seen it first-hand and not just through the videos.' He looked around, noticing that they were the only occupants left in the theater. "Shouldn't we get going now?"  
  
"Um…Heero? There's just something you should know…about us," Quatre's face looked a little pink and he seemed uncertain. "You see…Trowa and I-"  
  
"We're lovers," Trowa interrupted, hurrying to get to the point without beating around the bush.  
  
"We really wanted to fight against the Axis powers, but none of the other groups would take us because of our…sexual preferences, so we're here in London fighting as the underdog to protect a homeland that isn't our own."  
  
Heero sat silent, slowly absorbing the information. He knew by most societies, cultures, and religions that homosexuality was frowned upon and even seen as a punishable crime, but they were also being persecuted against by the Nazis along with the Jews and gypsies. 'What right do I have to hold it against them? They're good men and allies. Why would I want to bring myself to Hitler's level by holding their feelings for each other against them?' Heero noted their subconscious actions, from the way they looked at each other to the support and strength one lent to the other. 'I cannot persecute them for being true to themselves. I should envy them, if anything, because I took the coward's way out by marrying Relena…'  
  
"I don't have a problem with your relationship," Heero admonished, choosing his words carefully. "But I would still be careful if I were you because my opinion doesn't affect the rest of the squadron's or Colonel Marquise's."  
  
The major stood, and was almost bowled over by a sudden hug from Quatre. "Thank you," he said, voice shaky. "This means so much, knowing that there is someone we can trust."  
  
Heero smiled slightly before mentally scolding himself. 'Damn it, Yuy, you are not in this to make friends, remember? This is war. Death of a comrade hurts badly enough, but that of a close friend is ten fold more so.'  
  
"Let's get back to the car," Heero suggested, partially regretting he had joined them at all. Relena had said that it would be good for him to make friends, but what did she know? She was probably back at the house, gossiping with her friends about who else's husband, brother, or son died in battle without actually knowing the true horror of it all: The guilt that follows a man who is forced to play God by taking another's life.  
  
"You want to stop for ice cream on the way back?" Trowa asked. "It's a warm night."  
  
"Okay!" Quatre responded, all for the idea. "You know, Heero, I hadn't even seen ice cream before until I came to London."  
  
They walked back to the car, Quatre going on with a childlike glee about the different flavors he tried and the best way to go about eating it so the ice cream doesn't melt onto your hand. Heero couldn't understand how the blond man could stay so innocent with his experience in battle. He saw a blur of black out of the corner of his eye but didn't think much of it until he found himself on his butt on the ground.  
  
"Whoa, hey, sorry there, buddy, I must not have been looking where I was going!" came a smooth tenor and definitely American voice. Heero looked up to scold his assailant when he was stunned speechless.  
  
The boy appeared just under six feet tall and barely out of his teens. He had a trim look, thin in a wiry instead of scrawny way. His motions were fluid as he offered to help Heero help, extending his hand as he rapidly apologized and chastised himself for being so clumsy. Heero took the offered hand, noting the boy's strong grip as he was pulled back to his feet.  
  
"I didn't cause you any damage, did I?"  
  
"No," Heero mumbled, clearing his throat and trying to regain his composure. "I'm fine." He watched as the boy nervously started to play with the end of his long, chestnut braid. Heero realized he must look royally pissed off because the boy seemed almost afraid of him, so he tried to be more casual about it. "I should have been paying more attention."  
  
That statement brought a smile to the boy's face; the expression lit up his features, giving him a sort of ethereal beauty. Heero's gaze traveled to the boy's eyes, surprised when he saw their color: a bright, expressive indigo that betrayed his every emotion. He seemed to get nervous at the close scrutiny because he twitched again before re-shouldering his bag and giving Heero a jaunty wave. "Well, I better be going now… I am so sorry about that!" He took off running again before Heero had the chance to say anymore.  
  
"Who was that?" Heero turned to Quatre and Trowa, both who had similarly amused expressions on their faces. They just shrugged in response, climbing into the car and heading to the ice cream parlor Quatre held so dearly.  
  
When they returned to the base, Heero unpacked a little and brushed his teeth before changing into his nightclothes. A nagging suspicion told him he would not be getting much sleep that night, as his thoughts were haunted by the entrancing blue-violet eyes of a boy he had run into outside the theater.  
  
Heero groaned and rolled over onto his side. 'I am married to Relena; I am a major in the US Air Force; and above all, I am not fantasizing about a mere boy!' He opened his eyes, got up, and dug out a picture of Relena that she had sent in one of her earlier letters. 'I could learn to love her. It's not like I have feelings for that boy. He was just unusual and captivated my curiosity.' He smirked, satisfied with that explanation before falling asleep.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 3 


	4. Part 4

+ Title: War Story - Part 4  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
"Sixteen air-worthy birds: nine fighters, seven bombers. Twelve trained pilots - including you - and five of them, also including yourself, have prior battle experience. The better of the rest of them can handle crop dusters and commercial planes. Those left had never even seen the inside of a cockpit before they came here." Zechs was bringing Heero around for closer inspection of the machines and the pilots assigned to them. "I had Trowa make sure everything was running smoothly on the T-Bolt in the back. She's yours; all you need to do is make your personal adjustments and she's ready to fly."  
  
Heero rubbed the nose of the fighter, feeling the smoothness and the warmth of the metal. She seemed to be in better shape than the other planes, but that didn't worry Heero. P-47s were newer, so less people had the proper training in how to handle one. With the British Air Force scraping the bottom as they were for homeland security, he doubted any green pilot could pick it up right away.  
  
The monotonous clanking of men marching in unison on the hangar floor drew Heero's attention to the entrance. Ten men in their piloting uniforms being lead by Quatre were approaching in a way that could only be described as militant. The men, Heero observed with a frown, looked unfortunately green. Sixty percent of all new pilots were killed within the first three missions. He was silently thankful that it was Zechs's job to notify the families of those that had been killed in action.  
  
"Major Yuy," Quatre was using formalities in front of the other pilots. "Allow me to introduce the rest of your squadron.  
  
"Eagle Three is Thomas Boyd." After they assembled themselves single-file, Boyd stepped forward and offered a shaky salute. He was a thin, scared looking boy that probably lied about his age to be accepted to the defensive squadron.  
  
"Eagle Four, Charlie O'Malley." This pilot was tall, broad, and very rough looking. His hair didn't hide his Irish heritage anymore than his name.  
  
"Eagle Five, Lieutenant Edgar Barber." His salute was strong, but he seemed perfectly happy to avoid eye contact with Heero.  
  
"Eagle Six, Jonathon Ringley." Ringley was a small, round man looking closer to his thirties than early twenties, with a face covered in a thick, blond beard.  
  
"Eagle Seven, Lieutenant Peter Tiebald." Tiebald stepped forward, offering a jaunty wave with his salute.  
  
"Everyone else just calls me Lucky, sir, because of my call sign…Lucky Seven."  
  
"I get it, Lieutenant," Heero retorted sourly. "Get back in the line - I don't plan on waiting all day." Heero caught the smirk on Quatre's face as Tiebald sheepishly returned to stand with his comrades.  
  
"Eagle Eight, Richard Dix." Heero heard muffled laughter from the line, knowing that Dix was most likely the butt of every joke in the squadron.  
  
"Eagle Nine, Lieutenant George Farland." Heero nodded in response to the salute. He was putting more effort into remembering his lieutenants since their flight experience would be greater.  
  
"Eagle Ten, Lawrence Fitzgerald." Another kid, but Fitzgerald looked a little too bookish to be fighting the Nazis.  
  
"Eagle Eleven, Harold Manley." Heero noticed the star pinned to Manley's uniform, and the dark look in his eyes. He would have to keep an eye out on this one. Revenge wasn't the best reason to fight - it tended to muddle senses and make one careless.  
  
"Eagle Twelve, Harvey Stock." Stock had the distinct impression of a farm boy, and whether that meant more experience or innocence, Heero was unable to tell.  
  
Quatre turned away from the men, saluting Heero. "Eagle Squadron is under your command, sir."  
  
Heero nodded slowly, looking up and down the line. They looked like soldiers, but it was time to see if they acted like them. "We're going to run formation drills. Get to your designated aircraft and launch in the appropriate order." He moved to stand besides Quatre as the pilots hurried to their planes. "The planes need to be renumbered. Only four bombers are necessary, and we'll make that Eagles Eight through Twelve."  
  
"I have to apologize for Lucky. He's a smart aleck, but he's also a good pilot. He's probably just testing you. They're all a bit nervous being under your command. In a sense you're the first real war pilot they've met, and the fact that you're American makes it a little imposing." Quatre reached up to brush his bangs away from his eyes. "They're all good men."  
  
Heero shook his head. "It's best not to get attached or it'll hurt that much more when someone ends up dead." He watched the planes taking off one by one.  
  
"They're a close group," Zechs spoke up. "Any death in the squadron will affect them, whether they were personally friends or not. Most of these boys joined because they wanted to help the war effort without throwing themselves into the constant danger of a battlefield. The less lives that are lost under *your* command, Heero, the better."  
  
Heero wanted to argue the point further, but Colonel Marquise was still his superior for the time being, and allowed the taller man to have the final say. None of them had been through what he had in North Africa. They didn't see men growing to be the best of friends only to be torn apart by death, and the misery and reality that hit the survivors. Those who lived the war had enough blood on their hands for the men that were killed and died around them. They didn't need personal attachment involved.  
  
A series of whoops and laughter coming from the radio that was tuned to the squadron's frequency brought the three officers' attention to the sky. The craft with the large, green seven emblazoned on its side was performing barrel rolls in between the other pilots who were paired off and in formation with their wingman.  
  
Heero rubbed at his temples, feeling a headache coming on. His commander would have sent anyone home who behaved like this during a formation drill, and then they had to face the disappointment of family and friends.  
  
"They can have their fun and games for now, but tomorrow I want to see this squadron completely reformed. I don't doubt that you have complete authority over these pilots, but I do feel that discipline has been lax." He grabbed his jacket from where he had tossed it earlier across a nearby toolbox.  
  
"Where are you going?" Quatre asked, looking a little on edge as if the problem was all his fault.  
  
"Around the city a bit," Heero replied. "I want to get a good look at what I'm risking my life defending." He left the hangar, trying his best to ignore the engines rumbling overhead. After changing out of his uniform into civilian clothes, Heero managed to grab a taxi just outside the gate, and when the driver asked with a thick accent where he was to go, Heero could only think of the library. He wanted to catch up on news back home.   
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 4 


	5. Part 5

+ Title: War Story - Part 5  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
The London Library was a stately structure, three stories high and just a century old. As expected, it smelled like old books and wooden furniture, which was actually a little comforting to Heero because it reminded him of the library he was a member of back in Chicago.  
  
[ "Heero!" Relena appeared from around a shelf, wearing a dress he hadn't seen before with her hair and makeup done. "Are you going to sit here and study all night or are you going to take me dancing?"  
  
Heero bit back a comment. He never took her dancing; it was more like she dragged him, and he was often abandoned at the milk bar for an old friend or a male partner that actually didn't mind to dance.  
  
"Not tonight, Lena. I have an exam tomorrow. We can go some other night."  
  
She pouted, sniffing slightly, turning her eyes away and batting her lashes rapidly. This always happened. Relena would guilt him into taking her, even if he had prior engagements. It worked that evening, as well, and Heero had slept passed his exam period, lowering his grade enough that the full scholarship he had been offered for college the following year was revoked. ]  
  
He found the newspaper section without any difficulty, grabbing copies from the past week of The Chicago Tribune, The New York Times, and The Boston Globe. He had a lot of time to kill, and a lot of news to go through. The silence was relaxing and blissful. Heero hadn't had the time to sit down and be to himself for over a year. The only other sound was the turning of pages and the stamp of the librarian marking a book with its due date.  
  
Heero heard soft steps behind him and thought nothing of it until a voice began to address him. "Are you hoarding today's issue of the Globe?" The major stiffened slightly in response. That voice - it was the American boy that ran into him just the other day. He lowered the paper from in front of his face to get a good look at his companion, and could tell instantly that the other recognized him, as well. "Hey, shit, small world, isn't it?"  
  
"Yes it is," Heero responded, trying not to sound as irritated as he felt. He had just gotten the captivating young man off his mind only to run into him again. "It's near the bottom if you want to take it."  
  
"Thanks." Heero tried his best to ignore the long rope of hair swinging from side to side over the boy's shoulder as he dug through the pile. When he found his quarry, the boy pointed to a neighboring chair. "Is this seat taken?" Heero shook his head, and in response, the boy plopped himself right into it. "Well, it is now." He sat up suddenly, extending his hand. "My name's Duo Maxwell."  
  
Heero looked at the hand contemplatively for a minute before deciding it wouldn't kill him to be a little friendly. "Heero Yuy. Why are you here?"  
  
Duo blinked, looking a little confused. "I wanted to read the paper."  
  
"I meant here in London. It's not the ideal place to be with the bombing raids and the Nazi threat not too far away."  
  
The longhaired boy opened the paper, briefing over the headlines on the front page. "I could ask the same thing about you. Let's just say I didn't pick the best semester to spend studying abroad. What's your excuse?"  
  
Heero had an impulse to lie, to say that he was on vacation and got stuck in the middle of everything, but something told him Duo would be able to tell. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that he was always told he was a lousy liar. "I'm a major in the United States Air Force sent to London from Africa to lead the defensive squadron in protecting Great Britain from the bombing raids."  
  
"Wow, an Air Force major, huh? You can't be that much older than me. What are you, twenty-four?"  
  
"Twenty-five."  
  
Duo grinned. "Close enough." He sat back in what seemed to be silent awe for a moment. "You must be pretty damn good to have gotten that high up."  
  
"I do what I need to," Heero replied, trying not to think of the kill numbers he had to rack up to get where he was. "Why didn't you get drafted?"  
  
"Oldest and only son." He shrugged. "My parents would throw a fit if they found out I signed up. I don't think they've figured out that I've grown up yet." Duo put down the newspaper, and Heero realized that the other American expected to get more conversation done than reading. "So what did you do before joining the Air Force?"  
  
Heero shifted uncomfortably. Neither his parents nor Relena approved of his chosen profession, but why should he care what Duo thought? "I write books."  
  
Duo leaned forward in his chair, even more interested. "Really? Anything I might have read?"  
  
The major chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "I haven't completed anything yet. All my stories reach a certain point and then my interest just dies." His mouth became a firm line. "My wife thinks it's a silly hobby and that I'm wasting my time."  
  
Heero noticed a flicker of some unidentifiable emotion cross Duo's features and vanish just as quickly. "Oh," he recovered, licking his lips. "That's not very…supportive of her. I'm a journalism major and the only reason I can support myself out here is that the British papers are paying me good money for editorials from an American's perspective."  
  
"That explains all the questions," Heero noted with a humored expression.  
  
"Yeah," Duo grinned in response, "I guess it does." They sat in companionable silence, and Heero was surprised to realize that he didn't actually mind Duo's company and actually wanted to learn more about the young man.  
  
"So you're how old? Twenty-one?"  
  
"Twenty-three," Duo responded, winking playfully. "It looks like I'm better at the age-guessing game than you are, Heero."  
  
"The people I've been around are forced to grow up real fast. Not to be offensive, but your innocence makes you seem younger."  
  
Duo laughed suddenly. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just that no one's ever described me as innocent before. Hell spawn, yes. Innocent, definitely not."  
  
Heero's gaze narrowed. "Why were you called Hell spawn?"  
  
This time Duo was the one shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "Yeah, um, well…you see, I have…preferences that the majority of the world tends to look down upon."  
  
"What kind of preferences?"  
  
"The kind where I'd rather be with a man than a woman." Duo looked terribly disconcerted after explaining that fact of his life to Heero. The other man wasn't helping much, either, with his complete lack of response. "Now you hate me and think I'm disgusting like the rest of the world, right?"  
  
Heero recovered, shaking his head. "No, that's not it. It's just that I've never really known any homosexuals before and all of a sudden I find myself meeting three in two days."  
  
"Your friends from last night?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
"You grew up in Small-town, USA, didn't you?"  
  
Heero smirked. "No, even worse, a suburb."  
  
Duo laughed again, and Heero couldn't help but feel glad. He didn't want Duo to feel threatened by him because he was different. He knew what being hated by was like. His Japanese heritage didn't help much, especially during this war.  
  
"I think I'd like to meet your friends from the other night. I don't really have anyone to talk to over here, and I've been missing the human contact."  
  
"I think they'd like to meet you, too," Heero responded honestly. Quite the group the four of them would make - himself being the only one attached to a woman. Duo, Quatre, and Trowa seemed normal like everyone else. Why did people have to hate each other because of their differences? "If you drop by the base tomorrow around noon the four of us could grab lunch…if you wanted to."  
  
Duo smiled coquettishly. "Major Yuy, are you asking me out on a date?"  
  
Heero held up his left hand. "I'm married, remember?"  
  
Duo pouted. "Can't blame a guy for trying. All right. Tomorrow at noon it is. I found this place down the street from here that makes a mean cheeseburger, just like back in the States. Does that sound good?"  
  
The pilot nodded mutely, mentally trying to decipher this sudden feeling within him. Why did he feel almost excited when Duo responded to his reminder? It was a sudden rush of adrenaline, just like when he was in the middle of a dogfight. These feelings confused him. Maybe it had to do with what Duo said. It had been a while since Heero talked to anyone back home. Maybe they all just needed a friend.  
  
Wasn't this the exact situation he was trying to tell Zechs and Quatre that his pilots should try their best to avoid? If he and Duo became friends, and then Heero was killed in battle, that would just be one more person he was hurting.  
  
Heero looked over at Duo as the young man skimmed through the pages in The Boston Globe. He didn't want to hurt Duo. He didn't want him to experience first-hand the ugliness of war. Maybe if it wasn't Relena's love he was fighting for, it could be Duo's innocence.  
  
Maybe.   
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 5 


	6. Part 6

+ Title: War Story - Part 6  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
The sound of engines powering up echoed through the morning air as the pilots of Eagle Squadron prepared for another test flight. They were all wearing flight uniforms and kept solemn expressions. Major Yuy couldn't help but wonder if this was an improvement or not, since things had started out well the previous day.  
  
"Eagle Squadron, prepare for launch," Quatre announced into the microphone that broadcasted throughout the hangar and the radios. The men hurried from their external pre-flight inspections to climb into the cockpit, lowering the hatch and waiting for Quatre's order to launch. After a nod from Heero, the lieutenant issued the command. "Eagle Squadron, you're free to fly. Once you're in the air, circle the base thrice and come back in to land."  
  
"Yes, sir," came several responses through the static of the intercom. They taxied to the landing strip, taking off in waves of two. Heero exited the hangar to get a better view of the drill, smiling slightly. 'If they don't know anything else, at least they can fly in formation. The rest can be taught as much as they want, but it won't be truly learned until it's applied in a dogfight.'  
  
The first group started to return, taxing back into the hangar and climbing out of their fighters to stand near Quatre at the microphone. Heero noticed the anger in Tiebald's eyes as the pilot approached.   
  
"Major, this is bullshit!"  
  
Heero's eyebrow rose, having somewhat expected this from Eagle Seven. "How is it, Tiebald?"  
  
The slightly younger man seemed taken aback - obviously not prepared for the fact that Heero *would* want to hear his opinion. "You have us flying rounds when we should be going after the enemy. The only reason London is still being bombed is because none of our commanders have come up with a direct offensive attack! You can't beat an enemy by trying to scare them away!"  
  
Heero felt disappointed. Tiebald was just blowing smoke. "Perhaps, Lieutenant, it's because this squadron hasn't given them a *reason* to be afraid yet. I'm having you 'flying rounds' - as you say - to make sure this group knows the basics. I can't expect high-risk maneuvers when you can't even stay by your wingman. Where do you want to see more casualties - the Nazis or this squadron?" There was no response.  
  
"If you really wanted to fly offensive," Heero pried, "you should have signed up with the British Air Force. Or is that why you're up in my face? Were you too afraid to sign up but wanted to prove yourself as a man, picking the next best thing? Maybe you got away with pulling these stunts on Colonel Marquise, but I've survived the real thing, Tiebald, and I've seen and caused the death of more lives than you could ever comprehend."  
  
Quatre came up to the pair, oblivious to the conversation that was taking place. "Is everything all right?"  
  
"Yes, it's fine," Heero replied, heading back inside the hangar. "I think Lieutenant Tiebald understands now, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, sir," the pilot responded, seeming too stunned to say anything else.  
  
Heero saw the men talking amongst themselves, but they snapped to attention when the major cleared his throat. "You've all passed. Congratulations. Tomorrow we're going to find out what you're really made of. Dismissed."  
  
When all the pilots cleared out, Quatre leveled a questioning look at his superior officer. "Was Tiebald being a problem again?"  
  
"No," Heero shook his head, "I think his issues have been settled. I'm ready for lunch, though. It's been some time since I've had real food. Let's go have something to eat."  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 6 


	7. Part 7

+ Title: War Story - Part 7  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Duo had been right; the small, American-style diner did make a good cheeseburger, and he had been right, as well, in regard to how well Duo would get along with Quatre and Trowa. Heero didn't feel as uncomfortable as he first thought he would, being the only straight guy in the group, but the atmosphere didn't feel any different than if he were hanging out with his own friends back home.  
  
"My parents, of course, were pissed off when they found out I was stuck here for an indeterminable amount of time. They didn't want me to get hurt." Duo rolled his eyes. "From they way they were going on, you'd think London was having air raids because of me and who I am."  
  
"At least your parents accepted your differences and moved on," Quatre sighed, head propped up on his elbow as he ran a French fry through a puddle of ketchup. "What does he expect? I have thirty-nine sisters, and they're all older than me!"  
  
"Damn," Duo remarked, a crude grin on his face. "Your father must be one busy man."  
  
"Duo!" Heero was surprised at the bluntness, but Quatre just laughed.  
  
"No, he's right. My father and I never had the time to grow very close. On that basis alone I shouldn't have expected him to understand how I am. The fact that I wanted to fight the Nazis just topped it all off."  
  
Trowa squeezed his lover's hand. "It just proves that you are the better man."  
  
Heero couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy when the two of them looked at each other, their eyes filled with love and adoration. Wasn't that how things were *supposed* to be between him and Relena? They could hardly stand to be in the same room as each other, and that was so long ago when their marriage had been merely hours old. The only time they had kissed was a very chaste meeting of lips during the ceremony, and they never even made love.  
  
"Hey, Trowa," Duo cautiously broke the silence, "if you don't mind me asking, how did you injure your leg?"  
  
The mechanic smirked slightly, hiding his eyes briefly under the fall of hair before bringing his gaze back up to answer the question. "There was a raid in the middle of the night several months ago. There was no moon, and it was dark and cold. It had rained that day, freezing to ice during the night. That was when our mechanical crew was only temporary, so during sudden raids we had to quickly do our own inspection before taking off. I was careless, not checking the engine to make sure it was in working order. A piece had become frozen and snapped off when I started the engine, and in the air I noticed my plane was on fire. By that point I was a half-hour outside the base, which was long enough for the flames to get into the cockpit. My mask kept me from asphyxiating, but I had passed out from the pain the second the landing gear touched the ground.  
  
"My leg almost needed to be amputated, and I realized how much worse that could have been. I gave Colonel Marquise my resignation as a pilot, and I told him I wanted to be the chief mechanic instead." Trowa grinned. "That still doesn't keep Quatre from smashing up my planes, though."  
  
Quatre coughed suddenly on his cola, features turning beet red.   
  
"Is this a good story?" Duo's eyes depicted nothing but curiosity. "What happened?"  
  
The blond man cleared his throat. "I joined the unit shortly after Trowa's accident, and I was feeling a bit rebellious from having been alienated from my family. I was raised Muslim, and we are not allowed to pollute our bodies with certain foods and drinks. I had tested my relationship with my father and lost, so I wanted to test my relationship with Allah. I went out into the city that night, found a bar, and drank whatever I thought sounded good until I had no money left in my pockets. I barely made it back to the barracks before passing out on my cot.  
  
"The next morning we had a dogfight drill, shooting blanks at each other, and I felt so nauseous. My head hurt and the sound of the rounds being fired and the light from the sun just made me want to be sick. I closed my eyes for a moment, falling asleep. I woke up minutes later to my wingman screaming at me over the radio channel, telling me to eject. I barely registered what was going on as I pressed the button, but I do remember the sound of crunching metal followed by an explosion.  
  
"When I looked at the plane the next day, the nose was inverted back to stick out of the tail, and I learned why Allah forbid us to drink." Quatre looked over at Heero, "And I've never made that mistake again." He leaned back into the booth. "Although I did get the chance to meet Trowa because of that. Colonel Marquise thought I was too good to just dismiss, and he knew that I was a little…distraught, so my punishment was to be Trowa's assistant for the following month."  
  
Duo snickered. "Let me guess: it lead to a little more than *assisting*, didn't it?"  
  
"I'll allow your imagination to fill in your own details."  
  
"Touché."  
  
The rest of the meal had the tables turned, asking Duo questions about his childhood. The longhaired American had grown up in Massachusetts, going to school in Boston when his junior year took him to studying abroad in London, where he had been stuck ever since.  
  
"I've been here for three years. There are some things I miss about the States, but I actually like my life over here. Wish I could have graduated, but really, when we win this thing and the Nazis are expected to pay for their damages, a degree better be in there or I'm going to be writing a letter to Roosevelt."  
  
"You don't really think that'll happen, do you?" Heero asked.  
  
Duo shrugged, meeting the major's gaze. "Hey, I can dream, can't I?"  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 7 


	8. Part 8

+ Title: War Story - Part 8  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Heero had Trowa load four fighters with rounds of blanks the next morning, deciding to go straight into battle simulations. His own and three others would be the ones flying that day. He notified Ringley, Boyd, and Dix that they would be flying against him after breakfast, and that the rest of the squadron was free to watch if they desired. Heero knew, even when given the option, the other pilots would be there. This was the first time they would see their major fly. Heero knew this would be a test for him as well as the three pilots he had selected.  
  
Heero did an external inspection of his fighter with a practiced ease, sharp eyes darting from one potential problem to the next. He was duly impressed with Trowa's upkeep of the planes. The taller man was a very thorough mechanic. Heero looked up to see Boyd's plane take off, circling around the base waiting for the others. Ringley and Dix followed moments later.  
  
Heero was about to climb into the cockpit when he saw Quatre rushing over out of the corner of his eye. The blond man signaled for him to wait, so Heero paused at the top of the ladder. "What is it?"  
  
"Colonel Marquise needs to see you. The guards caught a civilian trying to sneak in, and they only reason he hasn't been arrested yet is that he keeps claiming to know you. The colonel just wanted to check up on that. He said that I could command this morning's battle simulation."  
  
Heero sighed inwardly. 'So much for being able to prove myself.' "Just be gentle. No trashing this fighter - she's mine."  
  
Quatre blushed slightly. "Yes sir."  
  
Heero hopped down, heading towards the enclosure at the back of the base that contained the prisoners of war of the British Air Force. He knew the civilian they caught would be detained there. The soldiers at the door recognized his immediately, saluting and quickly allowing him entrance. Another pair of guards let him directly to where the civilian was being held. Zechs was there, as well.  
  
"It seems like you've attracted *some* fans already, Heero," Zechs said, and Heero could not help but sneer at the sarcasm.  
  
The guards opened the door, and Heero was not surprised in the slightest when they pulled the longhaired American out of the cell. He did not know any other civilians, and he highly doubted Relena would have risked getting shot down while flying over the Atlantic to come see him.  
  
"Do you know him?" Zechs asked, talking as if Duo were not even in the room.  
  
"Yeah, I do. You can let him go." Heero brushed hair out of his eyes. "I'll escort him out." Heero was impressed that he managed to keep his calm until he got outside of the small prison. They started speaking at the same time.  
  
"Look, I'm sorry…"  
  
"What the hell were you thinking?"  
  
Duo seemed to hesitate before choosing his words. "I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. I just needed to talk to someone, you know? You're the only friend I have over here."  
  
"Did you even consider that breaking into a military base would be illegal? They could have killed you on the spot based on the fact that you *might* have been a threat."  
  
The other American's expression soured. "Well the British military doesn't seem too keen in other areas, so I figured base security would be just as pathetic. There aren't even signs or anything to stay away. It's just a nice sign, some fencing, and hey, it's not that hard to get in when the guy that's supposed to be watching the entrance is sound asleep."  
  
For a second Heero admired Duo's determination until reality kicked back into gear and told him how wrong the entire situation was.  
  
"And I said I was sorry. I wasn't out to sabotage the planes or anything. We're on the same side of things, after all. I just wanted to know if you wanted me to bring you a sandwich or something. There's only so much of that tea and crumpet shit a guy can take, you know?"  
  
Heero shook his head. "It doesn't matter anymore. Just forget about it."  
  
The scream of engines was heard overhead as a third of Eagle Squadron did an imitation of the lethal dance that was their job to perform. Quatre pulled into a sharp, spiral dive with a quick pull up that got him out of sight of Ringley who had been tailing him and right onto Dix. The sound of the blanks being fired as Dix's fighter was showered in red paint pellets echoed across the base.  
  
"I'll just go now since you seem busy playing war hero and all that."  
  
Heero winced at the dejected tone in Duo's voice. 'How come I'm the one feeling guilty? He's the one that broke in.' "You can't just come over whenever you want. It'll only hurt you more if you start to enjoy my company and then I turn up dead."  
  
The longhaired man's violet eyes still seemed haunted and sad. "Who else will mourn for you, Heero? You're family, sure, but they're far away and probably feel even farther because of the time. Without someone who knew you here and now, you're just being remembered as the person you were before instead of the person you are."  
  
They walked to the entrance in silence. Heero kept looking back at where Duo was staring at the toes of his shoes. Duo looked up for a moment, catching eye contact with Heero, and suddenly flashed a bright smile in his direction. The major was confused by the sudden change in emotion, but he was also relieved by it. Some part of him did not like to see Duo unhappy.  
  
"You can still bring lunch when you want," Heero suggested when they arrived at the gate. He looked down at his watch. "I'll be done in an hour. You can meet me outside the entrance around one-thirty and we could have lunch and walk around if you still want to."  
  
Duo smiled, nodding. "That sounds like fun." He stepped to the other side of the gate, ignoring the guard that more or less shut it in his face. "I'll be right here. On this side so we don't have to go through all that again." He winked playfully, turned around, and headed in the direction of the middle of London.  
  
Heero scratched his head, wondering about the surge of emotions Duo revived in him and if it were because it had been so long since he had someone to talk to, or if it were perhaps from some new emotion that Heero had never had the time to explore.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 8 


	9. Part 9

+ Title: War Story - Part 9  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
"Did things get cleared up all right?" Quatre's expression emanated pure curiosity when Heero returned to the hangar. "Was someone trying to plant a bomb that would kill us all as we slept unawares?"  
  
Heero could not help but chuckle at the thought of Duo trying to kill them all by blowing up the entire base. "No, it was just Duo. He wanted to know if I was interested in lunch and didn't realize that there were strict clearance procedures that needed to be followed for him to enter the base."  
  
"Oh," Quatre said, and after a second he started to smile. "Sounds like he - how do you Americans say it? - has got it bad for you. There's your accidental run-in after the newsreels that one night, and then the time you accidentally met each other at the library… Two perfect strangers of the same cultural origin united during wartime far away from home. It seems like a romance novel if I ever saw one."   
  
Heero arched a chocolate brown eyebrow. "Except that romance novels tend not to be about two men and the fact that I am married."  
  
Quatre shrugged. "Well, I never read one. It was just a matter of speech. You, on the other hand, seem to have more experience than I do in the area of romantic literature. So what is *your* opinion?"  
  
Heero waited until the group of fighters passed the hangar to respond. When he returned he had called Quatre in and the rest of the squadron out, knowing that the more experienced pilots would force the newer ones to learn faster if they wanted to survive. "My opinion is that Duo is lonely, does not know anybody here, and has been stuck in London for so long that the loneliness is just eating away at him, so he needs someone to attach himself to. That someone being me was just a matter of coincidence."  
  
"You don't really love your wife," Quatre pointed out. "You married her out of a sense of obligation. Maybe that is because was you *really* wanted was seen as unattainable, hmm?" The blond man grinned slyly. "I know…" He crossed the hangar, knocking on the door that separated the mechanics' storage space from the rest of the room. Heero could see him smiling sweetly when Trowa opened the door, whispering only God knows what in his taller lover's ear.  
  
They came back over together, Heero keeping a close eye on any clues he might get on what was going on. "I just want to perform a little experiment, Heero. Or do you not believe in science?" Quatre smirked. "Trowa has willingly volunteered himself to aid in my test. You just need to watch and keep your mind clear. Understand?"  
  
Heero barely had time to nod before Quatre grasped Trowa's chin, pulling his head down to kiss him fully on the lips. Heero felt uncomfortable, as if he were invading their privacy, but Quatre had told him to watch. He did not understand how the gesture could be so tender and yet so savagely passionate at the same time. They fit together, responded to each other, and clearly were in love. It wasn't a matter of age, height, cultural differences, or gender. What mattered was emotion, what was in the heart.  
  
Heero tried to picture himself kissing Relena in the same way, but he couldn't. She would never accept such an act, thinking it publicly indecent and something that would tarnish her self-made image of perfection. He himself couldn't bring himself to do it because, well, it seemed equal to kissing his cousin or even his mother in the same manner. The love was there, but it was a different breed of love - the wrong love for a lasting marriage.  
  
Heero then forced himself to picture himself with a man in such a way, and his mind's eye placed Duo as that man. This gave him a jump. It was so easy to imagine, and it even seemed to feel right, almost frighteningly too much so. It did not just stop with the kiss, either. His imagination took control, and he could see himself in bed with the other man, and how it felt to make love to someone with whom you were actually deeply in love with.  
  
He didn't notice when Quatre and Trowa stopped kissing until Quatre grabbed his shoulder. "Heero, are you all right?"  
  
Heero nodded carefully, wanting to pull back the revealing images but lose them all at the same time. This revelation of sorts was just too much to handle. He felt his hands trembling, and clenched his fists in an effort to force it to stop.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just a bit of a shock, that's all." It had taken two beautiful men sharing their deepest most sacred feelings for each other and showing them to him for Heero to realize that there was a reason he had settled for Relena so easily, and there was a reason why Duo confused him so much. "I-I'm like you two."  
  
"Maybe you should sit down," Trowa suggested. "You seem shaken up."  
  
Quatre elbowed the taller man in the ribs. "Of course he's going to be. It's not going to come easily to live one way you're entire life and then have it flipped around on you. The both of us know how that feels."  
  
"I don't know what to do." Heero was well aware that he had to go meet Duo outside in ten minutes, but he didn't know if he could face the longhaired man with the images his mind drew up still fresh on hand. And as hard as it seemed to admit after all this time that he was homosexual, just like Quatre, Trowa, and Duo, deep down inside somewhere it made perfect sense and an inner turmoil was finally settled. "Damn it, what am I supposed to do now? I'm still married to Relena, and it's not like I can write her a letter explaining all this and expect her to understand."  
  
"Well, you could try," Quatre laughed. "It could go, 'Dear Relena, Sorry to break this to you a little late, but I just figured out why I never loved you. I love men. I'm sorry, but this is goodbye.' Or something like that. It depends on the mood you want to set, I guess." The blond tapped at his temple with a finger. "I guess you're right, though. This is quite the little mess you've got yourself into, but we'll be here to help."  
  
"Talk to Duo first, though." Trowa said, stepping a safe distance away from Quatre as the whole of Eagle Squadron started taxing back into the hangar. "Or at least figure out if you're really interested in him. I doubt he'd be happy if he ends up falling in love when you just want to fool around."  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 9 


	10. Part 10

+ Title: War Story - Part 10  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Duo was waiting right where he said he would be - just outside the entrance. He wore a knapsack which Heero figured contained their lunch and a large, round object that had to be a ball of some sort. The other man smiled, and Heero silently cursed himself. He did not know what he was getting himself into. He could feel his stomach doing barrel rolls.  
  
"I figured we could eat at the park and just hang around there. It's a nice day and I didn't know if you played or not, but it's been awhile since I played some basketball and I'm not really into rugby or cricket… It's something to do, anyway." Duo was playing with the end of his braid, twirling it between his fingers. Heero wondered if he was aware of this habit or not.  
  
"It sounds fine to me," Heero replied. He hadn't played since high school, and it sounded like a good way to let off some steam. They started to walk in the direction of the park, and Heero noticed that Duo never seemed to travel on anything but foot. "Is there a reason why you walk everywhere?"  
  
Duo shrugged. "It's healthier? I don't know. I guess I feel safer this way. The buses just feel like big lovely targets for the Nazis to blow the shit out of. I bought a bicycle when I came over but it got stolen within my first month here." He was walking on the edge of the curb, carefully balancing himself so half of his body hovered over the road. Heero could not help but envy how Duo had an innate ability to not take life too seriously. It gave him an almost childlike curiosity, and it made Heero wonder if his solemnity scared people away.  
  
The longhaired man stumbled, causing Heero's reflexes to kick in. He reached out and wrapped an arm around Duo's waist to hold him up and steady him. Duo seemed to be blushing slightly, and Heero felt embarrassed when he realized the other American wasn't falling anymore and had been fine for a little while now.  
  
"Sorry," Heero said, turning his gaze away from Duo's as he released his grip. Holding his companion like that wasn't an entirely unpleasant experience, but the fact that the contact remained for longer than it needed to made Heero feel more embarrassed than he should have been. 'This has all been going too fast. It's been too much in one day for me to handle, that's all. I need to relax a little.'  
  
"It's okay." Duo was suddenly very interested in picking lint off of his shirt. "It would have been pretty humiliating if I actually fell, right? Probably would have left this huge bruise that I'd need to make up a different story for…a bar fight or something." Heero felt like he was suffocating. The tension was just that overbearing. "Well, we can see the edge of the park from here. I'm starving, how about you?"  
  
"Ravenous." Heero replied, wincing at the double meaning as he watched Duo's braid swing back and forth at his waist.  
  
Duo turned to face his companion and walk backwards as he spoke. "Are you feeling all right, Heero? You've been kind of quiet. Is there something on your mind?"  
  
'Tell him. Tell him! TELL HIM!' His conscience screamed, but Heero just shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Really."  
  
The rest of the distance was covered in silence, and the quick lunch was relatively quiet, too, made up of small talk such as the weather. Nobody involved directly in the war talked about it, and between Duo continuously writing articles on what he really thought and Heero's much more active participation, neither of them wanted to cover such sketchy topics. It was easier to pretend the world was at peace for some time. Not to mention that Heero's conscience was too busy berating him for not taking the opportunity to tell Duo what he had just figured out when it presented itself.  
  
Duo pulled the basketball out of his knapsack, squeezing it to check the air pressure. The ball looked like it had seen better days - most of the rubber grips were worn off and it almost looked black. At Heero's questioning eyebrow, Duo grinned and shrugged. "It's my lucky ball."  
  
"What are we playing for?"  
  
"Do we have to play for something?"  
  
Heero brushed his bangs out of his eyes. "That's generally the idea."  
  
"Oh." Duo seemed to think for a moment. "Can't we just play for the satisfaction of the victory? I mean, I'm feeling a little sapped for ideas right now and we could be here all day waiting for me to think of something."  
  
"That sounds good enough." Heero's imagination had been coming up with his own ideas on what the winner should receive, but none of them were too kosher, so to speak.  
  
Duo pulled himself off the ground, going to the space that made up the basketball court. It was obviously ill kept, grass poking through here and there with a liberal covering of dirt and sand. He dribbled the ball back and forth between his two hands as he waited for Heero to stand in front of him. The Japanese-American snatched the ball as it hovered in midair between Duo's hands, turning on his heel to get out of the other man's reach before running past him and towards the net. Duo, seeming to have expected a *friendly* game, put on an expression that was much more determined as he went after Heero.  
  
They trailed each other up and down the court, Duo managing to score first, which Heero blamed on his ancestry making him shorter than the other man. They seemed to balance each other out. Heero was faster, but Duo was more agile. Heero found the best ways to move strategically while Duo just went with his instincts.  
  
Heero realized that he did enjoy being around Duo. They complimented each other, and the other man seemed to truly enjoy his company, as well. He knew it was much too soon to bring the word love into their strange relationship, but Heero could understand that if he wasn't in love with Duo Maxwell, he sure was falling into it.  
  
He just wished they could find a way to work things out. Heero knew that it was his fault for marrying Relena without loving her, and it would be a problem he would have to figure out on his own. If he were to initiate anything deeper with the braided American, he wouldn't want Duo to feel like a cheap fling. He was worth so much more than that.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 10 


	11. Part 11

+ Title: War Story - Part 11  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Major Yuy was jolted out of the bed to the sound of a klaxon outside. He could feel the room trembling around him, and before he could even begin to think about what was going on, instincts kicked in as he hurriedly forced himself awake and into his flight uniform. Most of the other men met him in the corridor en route to the main hangar. All were halfway dressed and rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Heero was pleased yet surprised - whether it was the hour or the situation, they were acting gravely.  
  
"The bulk of the attack is in the northern end of the city," Quatre began when he joined the group, managing to look chipper for three in the morning. "Citizens are reporting that they aren't trying to destroy anything and just want to shake people up. Colonel Marquise thinks it could be a diversion or they're scouting for something."  
  
"What could they be looking for?"  
  
Quatre shrugged. "It's just a theory."  
  
Heero did a quick headcount when they reached the hangar, seeing that all the pilots were present and accounted for. "You're going to fly in pairs. Keep an eye on each other, and know where everyone in this squadron is. There should be no excuse for friendly fire. Don't try anything fancy - it's dark out and if you lose track of which way is up you could end up crashing into the ground. Shoot to destroy, and only use call signs over the radio." He hesitated, wondering if there was anything else that he felt needed to be said. "Good luck," Heero added as an afterthought before heading to his own fighter to start the preflight sequence.  
  
"This is Two. If we take a course of thirty-seven degrees we'll be amongst them in approximately five minutes."  
  
"One acknowledges Two. Squadron will set course for thirty-seven degrees." Ten replies of "copy" followed the order. Slowly but steadily the blips of the enemy bombers showed up on the targeting radar.  
  
"Seven, here. There's only half a squadron of them - this should be a piece of cake. We're faster and don't have to coordinate with a gunner."  
  
Heero eyed the radar suspiciously. 'Something isn't right here.' "Two, how many bombers were reported?"  
  
He heard Quatre swear faintly through the radio. "Reports were contradictory, One."  
  
Heero cursed Zechs and his heritage in every way he could think of. 'How could he not get confirmation on such key intelligence?' "Be careful, Eagle Squadron. Brace yourself for anything."  
  
There was about three kilometers left between the British defense squadron and the Nazi planes when six more dots suddenly appeared on the radar. 'What the hell is going on here?'  
  
"This is Two. I just radioed into the alert station and they're picking up six bombers with six fighters just joining, probably to ward us off long enough for the bombers to escape unscathed. What do you suggest One?"  
  
"Flights One and Three will stay to take care of the fighters. Flight Two will try to get around and see where the bombers came from. Stay under their radar. Return to base when your fuel gets below half and no later. Understand?"  
  
"Yes sir," called in Eagles Five through Eight and Heero watched them maneuver away from the rest of the squadron through the glass of his cockpit.  
  
"We need to stay awake here," he addressed the remaining two flight groups. "One slipup and you can end up dead."  
  
Seconds later the six Nazi fighters were on top of them. They clashed with the roar of screaming engines and the cacophony of the machine guns being fired. Heero caught sight of his target, pulling up on the throttle to put himself on the fighter's tail, and let loose a round. The enemy swerved from side-to-side, trying to evade the rounds, but Heero predicted this movement and soon the bullets cut half the port wing clean off, sending the fighter into a spiraling descent into the ground below.  
  
Heero heard a scream and several harsh words through the radio. "Report," he demanded, unable to tell where the cries were coming from.  
  
"This is Nine. We can't shake the son of a bitch on our tail." The metallic pattering of gunfire was heard over the radio, and an explosion was heard. "Shit, he got Fitzgerald! That son of a *bitch* just blew him up!"  
  
Heero cut the radio. He didn't want to hear Lieutenant Farland's lamenting over the loss of his wingman. This was war. It was bound to happen to someone sooner or later. He could picture Fitzgerald's face, but he had never spoken to him directly. 'So then why does it hurt? I distanced myself - I hardly knew the man - but it still hurts.' All of a sudden his first commander's words came rushing back to him.  
  
[ "A commander will always remember the first and every man that died under his command, whether they were on friendly terms with each other or not. To the commander, the death of a soldier is a personal disappointment that marks him as a failure even though death to a soldier seems inevitable. Try not to get killed out there, not today nor any other day." ]  
  
Heero took a deep breath before switching the radio back on. "One, watch my back," called Quatre, and the major moved his fighter back for his wingman to take the lead. He followed as the other man climbed and dove after the Nazi plane, using his ammunition efficiently as he only fired when he was guaranteed a hit. He scored by breaking through the fuel tank, flying through the spectacular explosion that resulted. Heero checked the radar, noticing nine blips on the screen - seven from his squadron and two enemy fighters remaining.  
  
"One, this is Three. My stick just jammed." Boyd's voice squeaked with panic.  
  
"What do you mean it jammed, Three?"  
  
"It just got stuck! I can't move it at all! I can turn and accelerate, but nothing fancy and definitely nothing evasive!"  
  
Heero searched the sky, immediately finding Boyd's plane and O'Malley still following even though his wingman was flying an injured bird.  
  
"Did you try putting grease on it?"  
  
"I…" Boyd was stuttering nervously, and Heero swore inwardly when he saw one of the remaining Nazi fighters turn in Boyd's direction, seeming to sense that he was in a prone position. "I never stocked more. I didn't think it would be important." Heero heard him swallow. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"  
  
Heero chose not to answer. If the Nazis didn't take him out first, he was going to be severely reprimanded in front of the rest of the squadron for his carelessness. "Eagle Squadron, get rid of the last two. Three and Four, head back to the base now!"  
  
"I'm sorry I screwed up, One."  
  
"Just get back to base, Three." Heero looked out the cockpit, and frowned when he saw Boyd turn around. "Three, what are you doing? Three, respond."  
  
"One this is Four. I think he turned off his radio."  
  
'What the hell does he think he's doing?' Heero watched as Boyd flew towards the approaching pair of Nazi fighters, allowing himself to be shot at as they flew closer and closer. The enemy planes seemed to realize what Boyd was trying to do, but not until it was too late. They tried to maneuver out of the way, but Boyd flew straight into them, colliding and exploding in midair, destroying the last of the fighters by sacrificing himself.  
  
"Everyone return to base," Heero reached forward, switching off the radio to fly back in silence. He forced himself into soldier-mode, blocking out emotion of any sort. The odds had been in their favor and they lost two men - one in battle and the other to his own carelessness and stupidity. And that was assuming that Flight Two didn't run into any unexpected surprises while tracking the Nazi bombers.  
  
Heero arrived in the main hangar last, and the other men were silent when he climbed out of the cockpit. He saw that all of them were there, Flight Two having returned long before Flights One and Three, it seemed. The atmosphere was somber. In no way could what had gone on be considered a victory. He made eye contact with Quatre who nodded at him knowingly, even though Heero himself didn't understand the message they just shared. He walked out of the hangar, unsure where he was going to go but knowing that he just needed some space for a little while. Quatre could take care of things while he was gone.  
  
When he got half a mile outside the base he was passed by a double-decker bus that suddenly stopped and let off a passenger, who immediately assaulted him with a hug. Heero tensed to throw off his attacker but relaxed when he recognized the voice.  
  
"Thank God, Heero, the radio is saying the Nazis killed two from your squadron."  
  
"You…you took the bus." Heero was stunned. 'Hadn't Duo said that he never took public transportation?'  
  
"I just wanted to make sure that you were okay." Heero could feel the other man sigh into his back. "You know, the raids didn't bother me that much before you came along. I didn't know anybody here, and they were never anywhere near me, so I felt safe. Now I know you and that you're fighting them and I get scared because I know something could happen and you could end up dead."  
  
"You have nothing to worry about. The ones that die are the ones that are careless or aren't good enough. I'm good enough, and I don't make mistakes." Heero winced at the tone of his voice, but it was a voice he recognized - the one he bore after every battle.  
  
He felt Duo release his hold as well as the other man's indigo eyes trained on his back. "You don't feel any remorse?"  
  
Heero turned around to face the longhaired American. "What do you want me to say, Duo? That I will mourn their deaths because they were great pilots?"  
  
"No! That you will mourn their deaths because they were great people! It doesn't matter how great of a pilot they were, Heero. Their heart was in the right place, that's what mattered! They volunteered for a cause they believed in and went through with it at the risk of their lives. You don't feel even the tiniest bit of sorrow?" They looked at each other, Heero's gaze daring him to find a shred of guilt over the lost lives. The more he suppressed it, the faster it died, and the easier it would be to return for the next battle.   
  
Duo looked away quickly, and in his expression Heero identified a mixture of sadness, disgust, and another emotion that he couldn't put his finger on. "How can you be so cold when people around you - people who are more than just face but have names - are dying?"  
  
"I guess that's the difference between me and you," Heero replied matter-of-factly, turning back around and heading off into the morning as if Duo wasn't even there, getting farther and farther away.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 11 


	12. Part 12

+ Title: War Story - Part 12  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
The following morning had Colonel Zechs Marquise carrying out the more burdensome of his responsibilities: visiting any victims to apologize, telling them the government will pay for any losses, including a funeral if any loved ones were lost; and notifying the families of the pilots killed in battle of what happened to their sons and how honorable they were.  
  
Heero, for one, was glad that the duty didn't fall onto him. He wasn't too good when it came to stirring up words of comfort to complete strangers, even though he had been a writer before he joined the Air Force.  
  
He had surprisingly slept well, but his dreams consisted largely of saddened indigo and the guilt he felt over being the one to cause the upset. The emotional hold Duo seemed to have over him disturbed him and excited him at the same time, and he was only left to wonder if Duo felt the same way. The longhaired American's embrace had come as a brief surprise - not the contact itself but how well the two of them fit together. Duo was a few inches taller, and as his arms had been wrapped around Heero's torso he could feel the other man's heartbeat through his back.  
  
Heero frowned. He had walked away from Duo last night, the wrong thing to do in such a tense moment. He had even said all the wrong things. Heero rubbed at his temples. 'So this is what the war is turning me into.'   
  
He needed to find Duo and apologize somehow. Even though it would be easier for him to just forget about the other man and leave everything as it were, he just couldn't do that. Heero felt too strongly for Duo, and wanted to see those violet eyes filled with warmth and happiness again. And he was yet to admit to the other man his own growing feelings.  
  
Heero glanced at the clock, trying to figure out where Duo would be at this time. He seemed to follow a simple routine that involved work, food, sleep, and the library. Duo worked on his articles at the newspaper's office building between nine and two, allowing himself a lunch break in the middle. It was currently almost ten o'clock.  
  
He decided to go find Duo at the plant when the same warning wail from the day before enveloped the entirety of London. 'Shit, so yesterday wasn't enough and they're coming back for more.'  
  
Heero rushed to the hangar, seeing Quatre already there holding a compass, seeming to be looking for a specific coordinate on a map of the city. "The colonel was right," the blond man said, tracing a circle once he found the point he was looking for. "The Nazis were looking for something yesterday, and today they've come back to eliminate it."  
  
Images of targets that held a potential value flashed through Heero's mind, going through the courts and the Parliament building to points of public interest such as the theaters and the libraries. None of them, however, were located in the area the bombers seemed to be scouting the day before. 'A church, maybe?'  
  
"What's their target?"  
  
Quatre hesitated for a moment, pretending to be distracted by the pilots entering the hangar and stopping to wait for orders. At Heero's persistent gaze, he let go of a deep sigh. "The newspapers."  
  
Heero was well aware of the men with their eyes trained on him as his jaw clenched. Duo. "Push the fighters as fast as they can go. We can't afford a repeat of what happened yesterday. Stay with your wingman. Farland and O'Malley - the two of you are wing partners now. If you can't kill them, injure them so they won't be coming back anytime soon. Now go!"  
  
He felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him back for a moment, and he turned to see Quatre looking at him with a worried expression on his pale features. "Heero, it'll be okay. Duo's tough."  
  
Heero hands formed fists at his side. "This is *precisely* why there is no room for emotions in a time of war." He hurried to the cockpit, not wasting anytime in getting the propellers going and checking to make sure everything was in working order. He taxied to the runway, lifting into the air the moment he had gained enough velocity to do so without stalling. 'I'm coming, Duo, I'm coming. Oh God please don't be too late.'  
  
Two minutes later they had a visual of the scene. The Nazis were trying their hardest to level everything within a quarter of a mile of the office building to take out any survivors, and when Heero first caught a glimpse of the factory, he was surprised to see that half of it was still standing.  
  
He watched as the squadron went after the bombers, aiming to disarm, disable, or destroy depending on the opportunity presented. The Nazis, knowing that against the much faster fighter planes their bombers were sitting ducks, turned and started to head back in the direction where they came from.  
  
"Two Flight, you know where they're going. Bring the rest of the squadron to intercept and take them out."  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
"Two, here. What are your plans, One?"  
  
Heero paused, trying to find a way to say it so Quatre would understand but the rest of the squadron wouldn't take it for what it really meant. "I'm going to help look for survivors until the police show up. That way I'll be here if any bombers decide to come back and finish the job." He watched Quatre leave his wing, moving to join the rest of the squadron in pursuit of the Nazi bombers.  
  
Heero pushed down on his stick, circling the area until he found a suitable spot to land. It would be risky in such a short, narrow strip, but he could do it. He lowered the fighter some more until the landing gear were just barely scraping the ground before touching down and trying to stop the acceleration as quickly as possible. He ended up a block down the street from the newspaper plant, and he discarded the flight helmet to run the distance divested of the weight.  
  
People on the ground were calling up to those still in the building, trying to get those who were panicking to calm down. Some were looking for family and friends, tears streaming down their faces. Whenever someone tried to climb down, the building would heave, shifting violently and threatening to break. They needed to wait for the fire trucks with the longer ladders before anyone could be returned safely to the ground.  
  
Heero scanned the faces in the crowd. There were no telltale signs of violet irises or a long, chestnut braid. 'Maybe he didn't come in today. Or maybe he's still in the building. What if he's trapped in the rubble and can't get out? Who knows how long it would take rescue teams to find him…'  
  
A blonde-haired woman holding a camera backed into Heero while trying to get the wreckage in its entirety. "Sorry," she said automatically, finding the right angle and snapping away at the devastation around her.  
  
"Do you know Duo Maxwell?"  
  
The woman turned, staring at him as if she could figure out his motives with a single glance. "Who here doesn't? Nice guy, easy on the eyes, and disappointingly uninterested. Why? Now's kind of a bad time if you're here to visit."  
  
"Where is he?" Heero was beginning to have trouble keeping his calm. The woman was aggravating him. On some level, he realized, she reminded him of Relena.  
  
She shrugged. "Last I saw him he was helping a couple people out of the building. Damn, I really need a smoke. You have one on you?"  
  
Heero shook his head, dashing off to see if there was somewhere he missed. A familiar voice caught his attention, and when he turned around, Duo was sitting across the street on the hood of a parked car that had a piece of steel frame sticking out of the hood. He was accepting what looked like a cup of coffee from an older woman in a black dress. He watched cautiously, waiting until the woman moved on until he went up to the other man.  
  
Duo's clothing was torn in various places and burned in others. Heero could spot bruises forming on the glimpses of pale skin peaking through the now-tattered suit. A large gash ran from the middle of his forehead to just above his right temple, and it looked like it hurt him to move. Heero also noticed - as Duo went to move the cup to his mouth - that his hands were violently shaking. He grabbed the cup firmly with his own hand before the drink ended up spilling. The longhaired man looked both embarrassed and grateful at the same time.  
  
"Thanks," he said, his voice quiet. He set the cup down beside him, clenching and unclenching his hands as if it would stop the shaking but nothing seemed to help.  
  
Heero could feel the tension between them, and he knew it was because of the last time they had met. Heero had been an ass and he needed to make up for it somehow. "You're wrong, you know," he began quietly, partly to match Duo's tone and partly to keep the other people on the street from listening in. "I do care. It would be so much easier if I didn't, but I do, and I can't help it."  
  
"When I was a little kid," Duo began, "my parents got me a Bassett hound puppy. I named him Sunny because, well, I was little and kids are weird like that. He went everywhere with me. Three years later he got hit by a car and died. I couldn't stop crying, and my parents got me a new puppy to try to make me feel better, but I just ignored the new dog because if I loved it like I had loved Sunny it would hurt again. I guess it's sort of the same thing, huh?"  
  
"Yeah, sort of," Heero replied. He reached over, covering Duo's hands with his own. "If you keep watching them like that the shaking isn't going to go away."  
  
Duo seemed to relax a little. "Can you stay here for a little while? I'm still a bit shaken up and you're the only friend I have."  
  
"That shouldn't be a problem."  
  
Duo smiled, and Heero was glad. It meant that he'd be able to get over this. They conversed quietly, Heero enraptured by watching Duo's face as he spoke excitedly about different things. He soon realized that Duo's hands weren't shaking anymore, and that he was still holding them, but Duo either hadn't seemed to notice or mind. Heero hoped it was the latter.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 12 


	13. Part 13

+ Title: War Story - Part 13  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
"You should have kissed him. It would have been *perfect*," Quatre remarked after he heard Heero's account of what had happened after he split off from the rest of the squadron. An account he only told to begin with because a certain blond man had been begging and pleading throughout dinner.  
  
Trowa leveled a reproving gaze at his lover. "He hasn't even told him yet. Duo had enough to deal with at the time because of the bombing. I doubt Heero kissing him would have helped any."  
  
"Well it sure would have made the story more interesting. It's like everyone can tell how obviously attracted they are to each other except for themselves!"  
  
Heero pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm right here, you know. You could at least stop talking about me like I'm not here."  
  
"It's true though. How you guys can stand to be within five feet of each other without succumbing to your deepest desires is just, well," Quatre grinned slyly, "FUBAR."  
  
"Excuse me, Major Yuy?"  
  
Heero looked up to see Eagle Five standing over the table. "Yes, Lieutenant Barber?"  
  
"I was trying to figure something out. The Americans sent a pilot over to command our squadron to help us get rid of the Nazis, so they sent you, right?"  
  
"It would seem that way," Heero narrowed his gaze, trying to see what Barber was trying to imply. The man was always quiet and seemed to be glowering at the world.  
  
"I was just wondering where the people in charge of the United States Air Force get off sending over a fucking Jap." Barber had said it loud enough for the entire dining hall to suddenly become silent to see what would happen.  
  
Heero was hardly fazed. He knew something like this would happen sooner or later, especially since the attack on Pearl Harbor less than a year ago. He stood, straightening the shirt of his uniform. "Well, *Lieutenant*, that only seems to be your problem. Keep your racist ideas out of this squadron or I'll have you discharged."  
  
"It's not racism, sir," he remarked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's a fact." Heero saw the other pilots stand and slowly form a circle around the major's table as Barber continued talking. "First you people attack Pearl Harbor. Those bastards killed every last one of them without a shred of mercy! And now you've been here for barely a month and Boyd and Fitzgerald are dead."  
  
Heero crossed his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow to see if Barber had anything more to say. He didn't seem to at the moment. "If you feel that these sentiments will distract you during your time in this squadron, I want your letters of resignation handed in to Colonel Marquise tomorrow morning at 0900."  
  
He turned to leave to mess hall when he heard a rustle of movement behind him. He spun around, grabbing Barber's fist mere inches away from his face, and pushed the man to the ground. Barber looked up in surprise, ego clearly burned by the way his peers were laughing at him on the floor.  
  
Barber rose into a crouch, diving for Heero's legs and trying to trip him up, but he just stepped to the side and let the man slide into the wall. When Barber managed to pull himself back to his feet, his face was red with rage. He aimed another punch at Heero's face, who successfully hooked him in the jaw first.  
  
The pilots began to cheer words of encouragement to Heero, telling him exactly what they thought he should do to Barber. Heero caught Barber smirking with pleasure one he finally managed to connect a hit to Heero's cheek, causing him to stumble a little. Heero was caught up in the heat of the fight. He hadn't been in a physical fight since his first month at the training camp, and it was a good way to let off some anger. It wasn't until Colonel Marquise showed up that the pilots started to split up the fight, not wanting to see anyone get into trouble.  
  
"What's going on here?" Zechs demanded, looking between Barber and Heero for an answer.  
  
"That fucking Jap is trying to kill every last one of us!"  
  
Zechs looked at Heero, but he didn't get a response. "Tiebald, Manley, escort the Lieutenant to my office. Major Yuy, go take a walk and don't come back until you've cooled off. I don't need dissension in this squadron."   
  
Heero left calmly, catching the worried glances sent his way by Trowa and Quatre. He hadn't spoken in his defense because Barber's own words spoke against him. He knew Barber would get discharged, knocking the squadron down to nine. That would make the third pilot lost in three days. At the rate they were going, they'd last just over a week.  
  
He knew his response to Barber's verbal onslaught was inappropriate for someone in his position, but it was an onslaught nonetheless. Barber had been a decent pilot, but the group didn't need the tensions he created.  
  
'Tensions,' Heero thought. 'That seems to be my fault. This was a lax unit before my command, and now there's too much pressure on them. They're more volunteers than soldiers.' He went to his room, changing out of his military getup and into something a little more civilian before going out.  
  
He walked aimlessly, no particular destination in mind, and found himself at the park where he and Duo ate lunch that day. It had been right after he had realized the truth about his sexual orientation, and when he first realized he had feeling for Duo. Heero sighed. He had said that he would let Duo know of his new personal insight, and that had been a week ago. Duo was still in the dark on how Heero felt for him.  
  
Heero pulled out his wallet, finding the picture from their wedding Relena had sent him while he was at the training camp. Relena had played the role of the blushing bride well, being the perfect hostess and talking to everyone that came. Heero hadn't known half of them. They were all people her family had known at one point or another. They were social connections, not even friends.  
  
She had been so happy. His own smile looked forced, like he was there because he had to be instead of because he wanted to be. He didn't love her. He couldn't love her. He needed to fix things soon. Heero had no idea how long he could keep the charade going, especially now that he knew Duo.  
  
'Tomorrow,' he vowed. 'Tomorrow I'll find Duo and tell him everything.'  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 13 


	14. Part 14

+ Title: War Story - Part 14  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
The next morning Heero sent out a telegram requesting that Duo join him for lunch. Duo sent one back saying he would be there at noon, making sure not to hop the fence as he had the last time he dropped in.  
  
Heero, admittedly, was feeling a little nervous. 'What if he doesn't have feelings for me? What if he's disgusted that I'd be telling him this when I'm married to Relena? What if he gets into an accident, has to get sent to the hospital, and I never find out, making me think I got stood up?'  
  
He shook his head. He was thinking too much. He needed something to distract him for a little while. Another glance at the clock showed that he still had an hour until Duo showed up. Heero sighed. 'Well, I guess I could go inspect my plane.'  
  
He went down to the hangar, glad to see that it was empty. Heero considered washing off the burn scars, but decided that he liked the way they made the fighter look. He must have lost track of the time because the next thing he knew he heard footsteps approaching the hangar and heard a voice call, "They said I'd find you in here."  
  
"Duo…" he said, a little startled. Heero ducked under the wing to go over and meet his friend. "W-," he started, swallowing all of his doubts. "We need to talk." The other man shot him a curious look, but Heero ignored it, his deep blue gaze going the healing cut on Duo's head. He reached out, touching it gingerly.  
  
"I had to go to the doctor to clean all the cement dust out of it, but they told me it won't leave a scar, so I guess that's a good thing." Duo's mouth twitched. "You've been acting kind of odd lat-"  
  
Heero held a finger to his lips, motioning for Duo to be quiet for a second. He sought for the sound he thought he heard moments before and found it again. "Of all the days," he muttered under his breath.  
  
Duo's eyes widened at the sound as it grew louder and he was able to recognize what it was. "Heero?"  
  
"Just stay out of sight, okay? This isn't the safest place for you to be right now." Heero swore mentally. Today was not a good day for this to be happening! He grabbed a phone that sat on the table in the front of the hangar, punching in a number along with a code that turned on the alarms to alert the squadron. He peaked outside the door as two squadrons of Nazis fighters flew by. "They're not here to bomb London - they're here to pick a fight."  
  
"Is there anything I can do?"  
  
Heero shook his head. "I'm going to go up now. When the rest of the squadron gets here tell them that my orders are to get in the air as fast as possible and blow the shit out of anything that isn't friendly." He hefted himself onto the wing, not having enough time to grab a ladder, as he scaled the plane to reach the cockpit hatch. "They'll go after the barracks first. You should be safe in here. Try to get under something that'll protect you if they bomb the hangar. The planes in the back aren't the best idea; try the office in the corner. I think that's reinforced."  
  
"Heero?" He looked back at Duo. 'I shouldn't have invited him here,' he thought. 'His hands are shaking again. We should have met somewhere safer.' "Be careful, okay?"  
  
He nodded, wishing he had another way to assure Duo. He looked so innocent amongst the warfare, so uncorrupted. Heero hated himself for indirectly getting Duo involved. He took off into the air, circling the area to protect the rest of the men as they ran across the space from the main buildings to the hangar.  
  
Heero got on the tail of his first victim, letting loose a barrage of ammunition until the fuel tank gave way, exploding the fighter in midair. 'One down, twenty-three to go.' Steadily more members of Eagle Squadron joined him in the air, and for the first time in all the raids so far, they seemed to fight together as a professional unit, well-synchronized with each other as they took out the Nazi planes.  
  
Heero picked his next several victims, taking on two at time. He flew headlong into the first while being trailed by the second, lifting up at the last possible second so the pair flew directly into each other.  
  
All the while the major kept looking over at the hangar, making sure it was still secure. He was going to protect Duo no matter what. He found his next target, surprised that this particular one's piloting skills seemed to surpass all the others Heero had encountered so far. The pilot was able to evade every attack launched on him, and Heero was having problems staying locked on his tail as they went into twists, loops, and rolls that Heero's P-47 was having problems handling.  
  
"One this is Two, do you copy?"  
  
"Loud and clear," Heero growled out through clenched teeth as he pushed the stick into another sharp dive.  
  
"You should land - your tail is smoking."  
  
'What?' Heero turned around to look at the tail of his plane, and wondered why he hadn't noticed before. He looked forward again, having to veer to the right sharply to avoid crashing with an enemy fighter. He must have been so caught up tailing one Nazi bastard that another right behind him went unnoticed. Heero blinked, feeling a little stunned. He had never lost awareness of his surroundings before.  
  
He felt two jolts and then had to fight to keep his fighter from spinning. His thoughts kept flashing back to Duo in the hangar. 'I need to protect him.' He smelled gas - his fuel tank must have a hole in it. He wasn't going to last very long at this rate.  
  
Heero pushed the stick down carefully, testing the limitations of his fighter. He frowned as it groaned and clanked in response. A light began to flash on the console, showing how low and how quickly his fuel was dropping. He couldn't fly straight with the chunk of his tail missing, and he looked up in time to see Quatre take care of an enemy that was set on finishing him off. He went back to concentrating on landing safely, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead from the exertion. The harder he tried, the more he thought of Duo.  
  
[ "You know, the raids didn't bother me that much before you came along. I didn't know anybody here, and they were never anywhere near me, so I felt safe. Now I know you and that you're fighting them and I get scared because I know something could happen and you could end up dead." ]  
  
The first time he hit the ground it was at an angle that sent his fighter bouncing back into the air again before gravity forced it down, slamming into the ground so hard that Heero was thrown forward in his seat, his head slamming into the hatch. He could faintly here Quatre calling for the base's medics over the radio, and Heero found himself fighting to stay awake. The pain was unbearable. He tried to untangle himself from the twisted metal that used to be the cockpit, but he couldn't budge. His legs hurt, and he couldn't feel his arms. Heero groaned when he realized why his head felt funny. He somehow ended up upside-down.  
  
Peeking out the hatch he could see the medics rushing his way, along with Zechs, Quatre, and Duo. Oh please don't let him see me like this. But he wouldn't go away. The longhaired American looked like he was on the verge of a serious panic attack. Heero closed his eyes, not wanting to face the expressions of his friends as they pried him out of the fighter. The darkness enveloped him, and he found it so much more comfortable than the rest of the world. There was no pain, and in the darkness, an image of Duo presented itself to him.  
  
"I'm sorry," Heero found himself saying, reaching out for the image. "I love you; I didn't want things to turn out this way. I'm sorry." He briefly registered the sensation of movement before the darkness swallowed him entirely.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 14 


	15. Part 15

+ Title: War Story - Part 15  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei  
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
The first thing Heero became aware of when he came back to consciousness was muffled voices around him. The second was the glaring white light that, when he opened his eyes, forced him to shut them again. He tried to speak to get someone to turn the lights off, but his throat was try and any attempts at sound he made came out as a scratchy hiss.  
  
Quatre was the first voice he recognized, and the slighter man seemed to understand what he wanted as he switched off the lights and forced ice through Heero's lips for him to suck on. "It's about time you joined the rest of us," the blond said, and Heero could hear the joy in his voice.  
  
'How long have I been out?' He wondered. He put a voice to his question, his throat feeling odd since it hadn't been used in some time, but most of the scratchiness was gone.  
  
"Two weeks. Yeah, wow, you've been out for a while. Let's see." Quatre began to tick things off on his fingers. "So you've been out for two weeks; you officially were dead - try not to scare us like *that* again, okay? - for a whole five minutes; I am temporarily in charge until you're fit to fly but once you get out of here you'll be directing from the ground; losses since Barber's discharge are now Ringley, Farland, and Manley; and I think that's it."  
  
"Duo," Heero managed to cough out. "Where's Duo?"  
  
Quatre chewed on his lip, and to Heero it seemed like he was trying to find the right way to say something. "Duo left when the doctors said you were stable. I haven't heard anything since then, but before he was saying how you were talking to somebody when they carried you away from the fighter. What was it he said you were saying? Something like, 'I love you and I didn't want things to end like this.' Or something like that."  
  
"Why would he lea- Damn it, Quatre! When I blacked out I saw him, and that's who I was talking to. He must have thought I meant Relena. But then why would he leave? It's not like it would matter to him…"  
  
The blond lieutenant shrugged. "You'll have to deal with that later. You had a clean break in your right femur, and you were supposed to have a wheelchair for the first three weeks on that one, but since you were unconscious for the first two and this third one they won't let you out until the end of, you'll get to jump right to crutches. One shoulder was dislocated while the other had a piece of scrap metal going through it, but those are fixed now, and the rest of you was a bunch of cuts and scratches, but those are healed, too. So it's just the leg fracture you have left to heal."  
  
"Was my fighter salvageable?" Heero kept his gaze trained out the window.  
  
"Trowa isn't sure yet. He still has to figure out what pieces go to what. Well, let's put it this way. He won't be able to put that one back together, but the parts will be useable in something else. Most of them at least."  
  
"I was supposed to tell him, Quatre." Heero buried his head in his hands. "The moment they came I was going to tell him how I felt. And now he's gone."  
  
"I don't think he's gone," Quatre said, voice full of sympathy. "I think he's just hiding from you again. When you get out of here you can go look for him and set things straight. Really, the two of you are making this more complicated than it needs to be."  
  
"That or we're just taking things slower than you and Trowa did."  
  
"Hey! When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it!"  
  
Heero just laughed in response.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 15 


	16. Part 16

+ Title: War Story - Part 16  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Getting out of the hospital was a big relief. The doctor gave him the crutch, giving specific orders to use it all the time, even just to walk to the bathroom. Heero ditched the thing the second he got out in a nearby garbage can. He felt fine, and it wasn't just because of the pain killers.  
  
Quatre had visited frequently, and sometimes Trowa would come and curse him good-naturedly on the number he did to his fighter. Between the two of them he learned a lot he needed to know and a lot he didn't want to hear from them but knew he'd need to know sooner or later. Preferably sooner if his relationship with Duo went anywhere at all.  
  
He was on his way to the library, and he hoped deep down inside that Duo would be there. The braided American didn't really have anywhere else to go, with his job put on the back burner until a new office could be built. When he finally got to the London Library, he began to wish he had taken a bus, but he hadn't opted to bring any money with him, and the buses certainly wouldn't let you ride for free.  
  
Heero smiled when he found Duo. He was sitting in a leather couch on the second level, reading an American newspaper. It was in the same spot they had officially met each other in, and Heero felt a little corny in finding the nostalgia of the spot a little romantic.  
  
"Small world, isn't it?" he said quietly, mirroring what Duo had said when he recognized Heero nearly two months ago.  
  
He saw Duo stiffen before the other man lowered his paper. "Yes it is." Both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but Duo shook his head. "You go first. You still owe me that talk you wanted to have, remember?"  
  
Heero nodded, sitting beside Duo on the cool leather surface. "What I said after the crash…about loving someone and wishing things turned out differently…I wasn't talking to Relena." He took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly. What he was about to say would either make or break his relationship with Duo. "I was talking…to you."  
  
"I-I…" Duo blushed slightly, running his fingers through his bangs. "Shit I'm messing this up. It's just that, well… I had kind of been hoping that it was me you were talking to, but you're married so then I got to thinking that you were probably talking to her because married people would rather die together and happy with a bazillion kids that apart and separated by a bazillion miles. Am I making any sense?"  
  
"In a way," Heero responded, a smile gracing his lips. "I thought you'd be disgusted with me once you learned the truth. I never thought you'd be attracted to me, as well."  
  
"How could I not be! You're smart, attractive, have an odd sense of humor, we have the same interests, and did I mention that you're attractive?" Heero leaned forward until their breaths mingled, noses just barely touching. Duo seemed hesitant. "Heero…we shouldn't…you're still married. This is probably illegal or something."  
  
"It doesn't matter; I don't love Relena."  
  
Heero heard the sharp intake of air and smiled at the expression on Duo's face. "But you always seemed to be the token straight guy."  
  
Heero shrugged casually. "That's something else I learned since I met you." He closed the gap between them, lips pressing against each other almost timidly  
  
Duo turned his head before Heero could deepen this kiss. "I don't want to be some illicit affair you had because of the war," he murmured.  
  
Heero pressed his fingers against Duo's jaw line, forcing their eyes to meet. "You won't be. I think I've fallen for you."  
  
Duo gasped at his words, and Heero took the opportunity to kiss the longhaired man once more, but this time Duo responded, eagerly plundering the pilot's mouth. Duo moaned when their tongues met, and Heero couldn't help but shiver at the sound. Holding Duo like this in his arms felt so right no matter how socially unacceptable it was. It didn't matter that he could lose his rank and get kicked out of the United States Air Force for kissing another man, and it didn't matter that he was betraying the woman with whom he made the biggest mistake of his life. What did matter was the beautiful creature in his arms who appreciated him for who he was and didn't care for anything less. Yes, Heero wanted to be with Duo, and he didn't care about what he had to do to achieve his goal.  
  
They broke apart, flushed and gasping for air. Duo's fingers touched his mouth, his lips bruised and swollen. He grinned, and Heero smiled back.  
  
"I don't know how you plan on breaking the news to Relena that you're leaving her for a man," Duo chided lightly.  
  
Heero sighed. "I'll come up with something once the time comes." He hugged Duo, stroking the mass of hair he'd suddenly found himself so fond of. Heero frowned. 'You got yourself into this, Yuy, and you are sure as hell going to get yourself out of it.'  
  
"What if she suddenly turned up dead?"  
  
"Duo…"  
  
"All right. What if *you* suddenly turned up dead?"  
  
Heero didn't respond. *That* idea got the gears churning. The more Heero thought about it, the more he realized it could work. "How about we see if things can work between us before making any major life-changing decisions that would require somebody dying tragically, okay?"  
  
"Yes sir," Duo said, winking playfully before assaulting Heero's lips for another kiss. "Hey," he said when they paused to catch their breaths, "I've always found something incredibly sexy about a man in a uniform."  
  
Heero laughed lightly. "Just take it easy on me. I'm sort of new at this."  
  
"Oh, don't worry, Heero," Duo whispered breathily in his ear, and Heero couldn't up but feel chills travel down his spine, "I will take this *extremely* easy on you."  
  
"So how about dinner tomorrow night?"  
  
"Sounds good."  
  
They were quiet for a moment. "Duo?"  
  
"Yes, Heero?"  
  
"Do you know any good restaurants in London."  
  
Duo chuckled in response. He leaned over, whispering in Heero's ear, "I know this great little Italian place called Bernardo's. There's a suit and tie dress code, but the food is to die for."  
  
Heero nodded. "Then it's a date." They stayed in the library reading over each other's shoulders until it was time to close. They parted with a kiss goodnight, saying they'd meet at Bernardo's at seven the next evening. Heero walked back to the base in better spirits than he'd been in for a long time.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 16 


	17. Part 17

+ Title: War Story - Part 17  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Quatre and Trowa were, of course, extremely excited for their friend when they heard the good news. Heero, in anticipation of the evening's activities, could not help but feel nervous as hell. Between the blond lieutenant and his mechanic lover, they managed to find a suitable outfit for the occasion. Heero found himself in black slacks with a silk blue shirt of Quatre's that was a hue a little brighter than his eyes.  
  
"It's all right to have something to drink as long as you don't plan on getting plastered. It's a bad idea to get so drunk that you wake up not remembering anything," Trowa said as he brushed lint off of a matching black sports coat before handing it to Heero.  
  
"Just make sure you have fun," Quatre said, smiling as he watched Heero examine his appearance in a full-length mirror. "The cab will be here in five minutes. Oh, and just because Duo's a guy doesn't mean that you can't buy flowers." The blond winked. "There is a florist on the way to the restaurant if you want to drop in beforehand."  
  
Heero looked at his reflection in the mirror, hoping Duo would be pleased with his appearance. He felt a tinge of embarrassment as his sudden state of self-consciousness. He had never been so concerned with the way it looked before. "Is there anything else I should know?"  
  
"Don't order anything with garlic," Trowa and Quatre responded in unison, smiling at each other and their similar insight.  
  
"All right," Heero responded, controlling his breathing to try to steady his heart rate. A quick glance at his hand caused him to frown. 'Wouldn't look good to leave that on,' he thought, pulling of the gold wedding band. He heard the honk of the taxi outside the barracks building, taking one last glimpse in the mirror before saying a quick thanks for his friends' help.  
  
He took their advice, having the cabdriver stop for a moment at the florist. The red roses were beautiful - he had to admit - but they seemed a little too cliché, and so far their coming together had been anything but that. Heero ended up settling on three white roses, bound together with a red ribbon. He only hoped that Duo would approve.  
  
Arriving at Bernardo's, he found Duo standing under the red-and-white striped awning that stretched overhead. Duo smiled broadly when their gazes met, and Heero found himself being pulled into a very enthusiastic kiss.  
  
"I woke up this morning thinking I had dreamed it all," he confessed shyly.  
  
"Almost seems to good to be true, doesn't it?" Heero agreed. He extended his hand that held the small bouquet. "These are for you."  
  
"Thanks," Duo responded. "They're beautiful."  
  
"Just like you," Heero said, not realizing he had said his thoughts out loud until he saw a cute blush gracing Duo's attractive features. He wasn't making it up, though. Duo's wardrobe was similar to his own only charcoal being the main color instead of black. He wore a shirt of a lush maroon that seemed to accentuate the copper highlights in his hair.  
  
"You don't look so bad yourself." Duo remarked as they walked together into the restaurant. The inside of Bernardo's wasn't as big as it outwardly seemed, but it was popular, judging by the fact that most of the tables and booths were filled up. It was decorated elegantly, as well, white linens adorning every table with a single candle decorating the centers of each one.  
  
Heero gave his name, and the maître d' immediately led them to a booth in the corner and down the row of windows from the entrance. They clasped their rights hands together under the table as they looked over the menus. Heero ordered a bottle of red wine with an eggplant parmesan as Duo asked for the shrimp scampi on fettuccine.  
  
The pilot released his hold on the longhaired man's hand, capturing his chin from across the table and allowing their mouths to meet over the table. The kiss was full of heated passion, and for a moment Heero was reminded of Quatre and Trowa. That brought a smile to his lips. They explored each other's mouths with no abandon. The window was tinted so they could see out but no one could see in, and their booth was out of sight of the nearest occupied table. Heero had requested a private booth for that particular reason. He didn't want their date to feel hindered by the chance of other people seeing them and being disgusted.  
  
"I can't keep myself from touching you," Heero admitted when they broke apart. "I don't know how I managed before."  
  
Duo brushed his bangs out of his eyes, taking a sip from the ice water that was sitting as his elbow. "I don't know either; I'm a pretty irresistible guy," he joked.  
  
"You have no idea."  
  
They conversed quietly, the majority of what passed between them being flirting and a lot of subtle innuendos. Heero was surprised at how easy he felt around Duo. He would have never been in this sort of situation with Relena, even the casual handholding. She wasn't very active about their relationship in private - it was all a show, to her.  
  
Dinner came half an hour later, and it was delicious. Heero leaned forward, licking alfredo sauce off of Duo's lips, which momentarily surprised the other man, but he quickly relaxed to the situation. Heero noticed that neither of them touched the garlic bread that came with their meals, and the onions in the small salads remained on the plate. Between the two of them they had finished a good portion of the wine, and - Heero admitted - he was feeling a little giddy. While he wasn't completely wasted, he knew that he had reached his limit for the night.  
  
"You want to get some ice cream after?" Duo asked, an enigmatic glint in his eye. "My treat."  
  
"All right," Heero agreed, unsure as to what his companion was planning.  
  
The ice cream shop was around the corner and down the street a few blocks. Heero sat at a table while Duo ordered, and the longhaired American returned with an ice cream sundae covered in hot fudge and cherries.  
  
"Where's mine?" Heero asked, and he got his answer when Duo procured two spoons from where they had been tucked away in a pocket in his pants. Heero took the spoon, scooping out a portion of the vanilla ice cream with a liberal covering of fudge. He was about to put it in his mouth when Duo hit his elbow, gaze stern.  
  
"What would the fun be in feeding ourselves?" he smiled. Duo took his own spoon, running it through the ice cream before holding it in front of Heero's mouth. Heero accepted the proffered spoon, licking off the ice cream. It felt a little odd at first being spoon-fed as if he were an infant, but he soon realized the sexual implications of the actions as he watched Duo take the spoon Heero held into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the plastic surface and wiping any excess fudge off his lips.  
  
Heero watched Duo take another swipe of the ice cream, wiping the back of the spoon across the tip of Heero's nose before placing it in his mouth. Heero swallowed the ice cream, staring at the vanilla as it melted on his nose. "Duo, these aren't my pants. Trowa might get the wrong idea if I return them with a white stain on the front."  
  
Duo chuckled lightly, bending across the table to run his tongue across the tip of Heero's nose. The Japanese-American felt a current of electricity run through him from the action. He felt a twinge of panic when he realized that he was becoming a little aroused by the mutual feeding, more so because of Duo's tongue.  
  
Heero cleared his voice. "We should stop. Things are…moving too fast."  
  
Duo looked a little peeved. "Well you're the one that started the whole licking thing earlier at dinner."  
  
"No," the major shook his head, not wanting Duo to get the wrong idea. "I like this - this is nice. I really do love you and want to show you how much I do, but I don't think I'm ready for that just yet."  
  
The longhaired man smiled understandingly. "Okay. It makes sense; I mean, you just figured out you were gay and all a few weeks ago. It's a little nerve-wracking the first time your with a man, but it's definitely worth it." Duo leaned over the table, kissing Heero chastely on the lips. "Let me know when you're ready; I'll be here."  
  
Heero felt a wave of relief wash over him. Duo understood and was being supportive. He couldn't begin to comprehend how he could be so fortunate. They finished the rest of the ice cream before saying goodnight, exchanging kisses and quiet "I love you"s before parting for the evening.  
  
In the back of Heero's mind was the constant, nagging reminder that he would need to come up with a way to fix things real fast before he ended up seriously hurting Relena or Duo. 'There just has to be an easier way…'  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 17 


	18. Part 18

+ Title: War Story - Part 18  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
A week and a half later brought about another raid, and by this time Heero had been officially permitted to fly again, even though he thought he was capable right when he got out of the hospital. Heero wasn't one to sit around idle for periods of time without getting frustrated, and Quatre was glad for the distraction Duo caused because otherwise he would have been dealing with most of the major's worries.  
  
Heero didn't seem to have a problem with the fact that the squadron was only half the size it started at. It made it easier to keep track of everybody, and being a survivor meant that their piloting skills were somewhat higher than their not-so-fortunate peers' had been. They did not let it go to their heads, though, and they worked as a team.  
  
This particular raid was a definite success for their side. No lives were lost from Eagle Squadron, and all of the bombers had been destroyed. Tiebald found himself in a sticky situation being targeted by three separate Nazi gunners, and help came when Dix managed to knock out two of them, leaving the last one for Tiebald to manage. Dix received several whoops and cheers when he returned to the ground. It had taken some time, but it seemed that Eagle Eight had finally earned the respect he deserved from the squadron.  
  
"Congratulations," Heero announced through the hangar's intercom to make sure every one of the men could hear his words. "It seems like the hard part is over. I just heard that American forces are moving through Europe and that Hitler is centralizing his forces to protect his own interests. If the intelligence is correct, that should have been the last of the raids." He paused, looking for the right thing to say. "It's been difficult, but you have made it. It's been…an honor to be your commander."  
  
Heero shook his head when Lieutenant Tiebald procured a bottle of champagne from his cockpit, pulling off the cork and passing the bottle around for the men to drink out of. Heero left, not feeling like it was his place to celebrate with the other pilots. It wasn't his homeland that he had fought so hard to protect, and he would not feel fully relieved until the war had officially ended.  
  
He found his thoughts wandering to Duo, like they tended to since he had met the slightly younger man. Heero found himself embarrassed with the knowledge that he had never been intimate with anyone before, and as much as he really wanted to give Duo everything, his own inexperience brought an extreme level of self-consciousness that he never thought he had.  
  
Three days prior they ended up at Duo's cozy flat, things getting heavy on the sofa, and Heero had been rather enjoying himself. But then the longhaired man's hand snuck into his pants for a brief grope and the near panic returned. The shyness was unwarranted, too. It wasn't like any part of him was horribly disfigured. He had some scars, the most recent from his crash, but it wasn't like he was missing a testicle or anything.  
  
Heero snorted at the idea. 'Although that certainly would put the icing on the cake.'  
  
He briefly stopped at a street vendor, purchasing a cup of coffee. Heero let the warm, bitter liquid sit in his mouth, savoring the flavor, before he swallowed. 'They definitely didn't make coffee here like they do back at home,' he contemplated. That thought brought a scowl to his face. He certainly wasn't home sick. His family hadn't been terribly close, and all Relena ever talked about was the latest gossip. 'At least Duo's intelligent enough to realize that there's more to the world than what everybody else is doing.' He watched the steam rise from the cup in his hand. With Duo, he realized, he felt more at home than he had at what was supposed to be his home.  
  
'I never would have imagined that this is what would happen to me by volunteering for the position. Quatre was right. It does almost seem like a romance novel.' He looked around at the old brick buildings that surrounded him, each one containing a deeper history than his own country. 'Maybe this is why Shakespeare was drawn here. Something happens to a person here. It's like a catalyst.'  
  
Down the street about half a block was a familiar building that Heero had been to before. He was only half surprised that it was his subconscious destination. He stopped at the entrance, looking up at the window he knew was Duo's. The curtains were drawn, but behind them he could see that the lights were on and every now and then a shadow was cast on the fabric.  
  
Heero opened the door to the apartment building, cautiously entering. He still wasn't sure what had brought him to Duo's apartment, but he allowed his body to make the movements for him. He walked up the three flights of stairs, hand precariously balanced on the smooth surface of the wooden railing. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, overriding the sound of the traffic outside and a dog barking somewhere.   
  
He reached Duo's door, hand hovering over it as if he were about to knock but couldn't decide if he should or not. Heero laughed at himself quietly. 'You've flown in countless battles, risking your life for other people over and over again, and you can't even knock on a door.'  
  
His brain screamed for him to turn around and head back to the base, but his body told him otherwise. In the end, his body won, and Heero found himself quickly rapping on the wood of the door. After a few seconds of waiting, it opened a crack - an indigo eye peeking out to see who it was. Heero saw a smile form on Duo's face as he opened his door the rest of the way.  
  
"Heero!" he greeted enthusiastically. "What are you doing here? We didn't have plans tonight that I forgot about, did we?"  
  
The Japanese-American shook his head silently, crossing the threshold to grasp Duo's face firmly in between his hands, forcing a needy kiss on the other man's lips. When he broke, he was panting slightly, and Duo's face was flushed. "Can I come in?"  
  
Duo nodded, allowing Heero to enter and locking the door behind him.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 18 


	19. Part 19

+ Title: War Story - Part 19  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
As they continued to kiss passionately, Heero could feel Duo unbuttoning his shirt, running his hands along his chest before pushing it off of his shoulders. The sensation of skin-on-skin caused Heero to shiver, his nerves feeling like they were about to overload as his chest and back came in contact with the cooler air. There was no backing down this time. He needed to prove to Duo how much he loved him and wanted to be loved by him.  
  
Duo broke the kiss, practically gasping for breath with his hands halfway inside the waist of Heero's pants. "You're *sure* that you're ready?"  
  
Heero nodded, surprised by how much huskier his voice sounded. "Oh yes, Duo. I love you so much. I want you, and I need you more than anything."  
  
"I love you, too," Duo replied, a soft expression in his eyes before it transformed into a lustful gaze. He undid the button on the pants, and Heero kicked them off along with his socks and shoes. Somehow they miraculously ended up in Duo's bedroom.  
  
Heero could feel his sex throbbing for release from the confinements of his underwear, and Duo, grinning seductively, had his soon-to-be-lover take a seat on the bed as he kneeled down on the floor. "I said I would take this extremely easy on you, didn't I?" he explained, before kissing the tip of Heero's erection through the cotton garment. He groaned aloud, hips bucking into the heat of Duo's mouth. The longhaired American chuckled softly, and Heero felt himself growing harder at the sound.  
  
He lifted his hips for Duo to remove the underwear, and Heero suddenly felt very exposed and vulnerable, and he didn't like it at all.  
  
"God, Heero, you're so beautiful," Duo whispered, and Heero felt any of his reserves disintegrate. The longhaired man bent his head down, enveloping Heero in the warm, wet heat of his mouth, and the pilot was lost in a world of exquisite pleasure. He moaned from the caress, not beginning to comprehend how anything so wonderful could be so torturous at the same time.  
  
He began to moan louder as he felt the pressure building even greater, and that was when Duo stopped, pulling his head away and moistening his lips. He shook his head, crawling up Heero's body from where he lay prone on the bed until their mouths met again. This kiss was slow and deliberate, tasting every surface of each other as their tongues caressed and entwined.  
  
It was Heero who broke away this time, pressing his hand against Duo's chest. "I want to see you." The longhaired man smiled, planting a firm kiss on Heero's lips before getting up to stand on the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt to slowly reveal inch by tantalizing inch of skin to his lover.  
  
Duo's body was lean yet strong, broader shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist. His torso was hairless with the exception of a fine line running from below his navel to below the waist of his pants. Duo pulled off his shoes and socks, tossing them aside before undoing the clasp on his slacks. When the pants were discarded, he stood naked in front of Heero for his approval.  
  
Gorgeous, Heero thought, and he voiced the word, getting rewarded by a slight blush on Duo's face. The Japanese-American grabbed his lover's wrist before Duo could return to his ministrations, making his request in a tone that sounded far more needy than he had meant it to. "Let your hair down…please."  
  
Wordlessly, Duo reached back, snapping off the tie that held his braid together, and pulled the rope of hair in front of his shoulder for Heero to see. He combed his fingers through the sections, slowly unraveling his hair bit by bit. Heero was astounded by the sheer mass and beauty of the chestnut locks, shuddering as the ends brushed against his skin, causing a light tickling sensation.  
  
Duo went over to the nightstand beside the bed, pulling out a bottle of something Heero couldn't identify. He found himself distracted by the view of Duo's backside, finding himself involuntarily licking his lips at the sight.  
  
"This," Duo began, holding out the bottle for closer inspection, "is lubricating oil."  
  
Heero nodded, recognizing the term. "I, uh," he cleared his throat, "I think Quatre might have mentioned that somewhere along the line."  
  
Duo laughed, "Well, actually, Quatre sent this down this morning. I guess he thought we'd be needing it." Heero didn't respond, too embarrassed by the blond pilot's foresight. "I guess that means you know what it's for." The major nodded silently. Duo handed him the bottle, lying down on the bed next to him as Heero gazed at him dumbly. "I don't have all night, love."  
  
"I…I don't want to hurt you," Heero felt torn. The desire was so strong, but he didn't want to cause Duo any pain. He didn't want to tarnish the experience.  
  
"It's all right. I'll tell you if you aren't doing something right. I trust you, Heero."  
  
Heero snapped open the bottle's top, pouring some of the oil on his fingers. He found himself all of a sudden trying to remember all that Trowa and Quatre had talked to him about, wishing he hadn't felt so embarrassed at the time. He remembered the key points, though, like right now he needed to stretch Duo.  
  
He made sure his fingers were adequately lubricated, recalling Quatre's words.  
  
[ "There's no such thing as too much, unless you're using butter. Come to think of it, never, *ever* use butter." ]  
  
Heero carefully inserted his index finger, feeling Duo's inner muscles clenching around him. He caressed gently until he felt Duo relax, and then inserted his middle finger as well. He felt a soft, spongy spot inside and, when he pressed it, Duo gave a loud shout of pleasure, his body rocking back towards Heero. He kept that particular spot in mind, searching for it again and smiling when Duo gave another groan.  
  
"I think I'm ready," Duo said, voice dripping with desire.  
  
Heero removed his fingers, reaching for the bottle again and pouring out more of the oil onto his hand to coat his sex liberally, as well as Duo's entrance. He lay across his lover, his mouth at Duo's ear, licking and sucking on it as he entered Duo's body. For him the sensation was indescribable, and he couldn't contain the moan that escaped his lips as Duo clenched his muscles around him. Heero paused, waiting for Duo to adjust, and when the other man nodded, he began to rock in and out of Duo's body.  
  
Their worlds at that moment were made up of only one another, each experiencing their own pleasure as well as trying to enhance the other's. Duo whispered Heero's name, his voice raising as his release came closer and closer. Heero felt like electricity was coursing through his body, the sensations bringing him to heaven and back. Heero came first, followed shortly by Duo, and they collapsed entangled in each other, a mass of flesh, sweat, and the intoxicating scent of male musk.  
  
Heero placed a kiss on Duo's sweat soaked forehead. "That was incredible."  
  
Duo smiled, his exhaustion evident in the expression. "I told you it was worth it, didn't I?" He yawned, tilting his neck up to kiss Heero tenderly. "I love you."  
  
The Japanese-American smiled at the words, understanding now that they held no secrets against each other because they had the most intimate of all affection. "I love you, too."  
  
They fell asleep like that, content with each other's company and knowing, that at that moment, everything was perfect.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 19 


	20. Part 20

+ Title: War Story - Part 20  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Heero awoke the next morning to something tickling his nose and found masses of chestnut hair wrapped over his body. It took him a moment to realize that the previous night's activities weren't just another one of the dreams he had been having as of late, and he smiled sleepily when he turned his head to gaze at Duo's slumbering form. The other man was still sound asleep, and when Heero reached out to stroke his cheek, Duo sighed into the touch.  
  
A quick glance at the time told Heero that it was nine o'clock, and he groaned out loud. He felt bad knowing that he'd have to wake up Duo, but it was better than just taking off and letting Duo worry about why he had left. Heero sat up on his elbow, placing a hand on his lover's shoulder and shaking him gently.  
  
Duo's eyes blinked open slowly, a soft smile showing as he recognized Heero. "Hey you," he greeted, reaching up to run his fingers through the pilot's hair.  
  
"Hey," Heero replied, grabbing Duo's hand and kissing the center of his palm. "I need to get going. They'll wonder what happened to me if I don't show up for breakfast." At Duo's slight frown, he explained further. "I just had to wake you up so you wouldn't think I regretted last night. I don't. It was wonderful, and I love you."  
  
Duo nodded understandingly. "Okay." He scratched at the back of his head thoughtfully. "Wouldn't want Colonel Marquise to think you got drunk last night, ended up in a bar fight, and got arrested, now would we?"  
  
Heero chuckled lightly, bending over to kiss Duo's mouth earnestly. "Now go back to sleep. I'll see you later."  
  
By the time Heero found all of his clothes and put them on, Duo had fallen back asleep. He walked back to the base, wishing he had at least tossed some change in his pocket to take a bus since the morning was damp with a light rain. Getting back to his barracks he spent the time getting dressed, not wanting to show up to breakfast wearing the same clothes as yesterday or the other pilots would have started rumors about another woman in their major's wife.  
  
Heero snorted. 'Although I'm sure Duo would love to hear about stories such as that.'  
  
Quatre came through with the mail as he usually did, stopping at Heero and handing him a letter with an apologetic look in his aquamarine eyes. Heero felt his heart skip a beat as he recognized the pink stationery. He opened it hesitantly, hoping maybe someone else had sent him a letter on the same type of paper, but that wasn't the case.  
  
// My most dearest Heero;  
  
I'm sorry it's been so long since my last letter. There's a new campaign going around for women to fill the men's positions and to grow their own vegetables so more could be sent to the soldiers, but it doesn't seem that - no matter how patriotic I am and want to support you - I'm just not the working sort of woman. The garden is a little more my style though, and there are several cute cherry tomato plants just outside the kitchen window.  
  
Mrs. Jenkins is doing much better; she understands what her husband died for and that her child needs her now even more since she's playing both the role of mother and father. It's a good thing we don't have any children yet - I couldn't imagine having to play baseball and go fishing with our son if you were to be killed. Which reminds me, Heero, my mother is demanding for grandchildren since she isn't getting any younger and wants someone to spoil rotten now that I'm grown up. We can't disappoint her. I think our children would be beautiful.  
  
I hear that they think the war is at a turning point. The American forces are making a difference that is catching even Hitler's attention, and if the summits go accordingly, we shall have the Russians as an official ally. Can you imagine that? I'm still having problems grasping the idea.  
  
I also heard rumors that out in California and the other western states the police are rounding up Japanese immigrants and sending them to detention camps. The government thinks they are leaking information to their homeland. I think that's just ridiculous. Your mother is a nervous wreck, thinking that they'll come after your father any day now, but none of the evacuations seem to be this far east. I think they'll be all right.  
  
I go to the newsreels every night, now, hoping to catch a glimpse of your face, but none of the reports have been about Britain beside bits and pieces from another one of Churchill's speeches. They're too focused on the European campaign right now, and it looks like the end is in sight. I long for the day when you get to come home.  
  
Always, my love,  
  
Relena //  
  
Heero rubbed at his forehead, feeling like he could sense a headache coming on. Memories of last night became superimposed on the sight of Relena's face as he read the letter, and as much as he loved Duo, he couldn't help but feel extremely guilty for what he would be putting Relena through if she ever found out. She wasn't that bad of a person - it's just that they had been better friends than spouses.  
  
He went to his room to put the letter in the box with all the others, tucking it under the bed and trying to get it out of his memory. Heero needed somebody else to talk to, someone whose opinion he could trust. He found himself walking down to the main hangar, glad to see that Trowa was there and nobody else.  
  
"I got a letter from Relena…" he began upon receiving the other man's attention.  
  
"Let me guess," he grunted, tightening a loose screw that held on a portside propeller. "You're too worried about making the wrong decision that you've come to ask me for advice?"  
  
Heero nodded, wondering if his motives were really that transparent.  
  
"I had a girlfriend once. Sort of. We went out on a date, but something didn't feel right. She noticed it too and we decided to try being friends. It turned out that she was actually my long-lost sister." Trowa straightened, wiping the grease and oil off his hands onto a dirty rag that at one point in its life had been a towel. "Then I came here, met Quatre, and that's when I started to believe in destiny. Coincidental circumstances led me to meet my sister and the love of my life. The point I'm trying to get isn't that you should believe in fate, but you should do what feels right without being dishonest to yourself. If you can stick to a decision without regretting it, that's the direction you should go in. That's really all I can offer."  
  
Heero was letting the words sink in when Quatre came rushing in. "Heero!" he gasped. "I walked by your room because the door was open, so I thought you forgot to shut it on your way out, but when I peek in Duo was sitting on your bed with a letter in his hands, and he looked upset!"  
  
"Shit," Heero swore. "Is he still up there?"  
  
Quatre shook his head. "He rushed out when he saw m-"  
  
The Japanese-American didn't wait for another word, running out as fast as he could, hoping he could still find Duo. 'Duo, love, please let me find you.'  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 20 


	21. Part 21

+ Title: War Story - Part 21  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Heero ran to the first place he could think of - the library. If Duo weren't there, he'd scour the whole city until he found him. Trowa's words echoed through his mind as the raced down the streets, darting between pedestrians and lampposts. Heero doubled his effort when the library came into sight, repeating the same thing over and over again in his head. 'Please be here; please be here; please be here.'  
  
He slowed to a walk at the glare from the old man at the front desk. Heero ducked his head down, a little embarrassed by his behavior, but this was Duo. Duo seemed to be the only person who could get him to act like this - the only person he was truly comfortable to be around.  
  
Heero let out a big sigh of relief when he found Duo, sitting in a chair in a dark corner curled up in the fetal position. His hands were shaking, and the sight nearly broke Heero's heart. He approached cautiously, trying not to alert Duo of his presence until he stood behind the chair, wrapping his arms around his lover's shoulders and grasping his trembling hands. "Duo…" he began, but the other man shook his head.  
  
"You shouldn't have come after me. Encouraging this will only make things worse."  
  
"Encouraging what?"  
  
"*This*," Duo responded, moving his hand in a circular gesture. "Us. I…" he cleared his throat since his voice had started to shake as well. "When I got up - after you left - I thought it would be a good idea to go visit you. So I sat around in your room and waited.  
  
"My curiosity got the best of me, and I started snooping around through your stuff. You know, being a journalist makes you nosy like that. I…I found your dog tags and your medals, and then I found the box under your bed…and everything that was in it. The letters, the pictures, and that's when I realized that this was all so wrong. One of the pictures of your…your wife," it seemed to be an effort for him to force out the word, "she seemed to be looking at me like she *knew* somehow. I picked up the letter on the top and read it. She doesn't sound like that bad of a person, and I just couldn't help but feel guilty. Like I was ruining everything. That was when Quatre found me and I just couldn't take it anymore. I had to get away."  
  
Duo sank further into the cushion of the chair. "I just don't know how I can do this. I love you so much, but I don't want to be seen as the whore that ruined your family."  
  
Heero winced at the harsh words, but on some level he recognized the truth. His family wouldn't understand, no matter how much they loved him. And knowing Relena, she would have *that* particular news spread throughout the town in a matter of minutes. It would tarnish his and his family's reputation, and while he didn't particularly care about what the community thought about him, his parents were a totally different story.  
  
"What if they never found out?" he pried, brain working to try and find a solution that wouldn't mean losing Duo. "What if I brought you back to the States and introduced you as a friend?"  
  
Duo arched an eyebrow skeptically. "There is no way in hell I'd be able to sit somewhere and wait for you to come over just to fuck me while you had a family with someone else."  
  
Heero moved to sit in the chair opposite of Duo's. 'All right, so maybe that was a bad idea, but there has to be something.' "We still have plenty of time to think this through. They're not going to send me home until the war is officially over, and that'll probably take at least another year." He hesitated, waiting to see if Duo had something to add or not. "Between the two of us we should be able to come up with something. Our love is too strong to just be able to throw it away because of what somebody else will think."  
  
Duo looked like he had been moved to tears, and Heero *definitely* didn't want to see his lover cry. Duo was the strong, optimistic one, and Heero had no idea how he would react to seeing the other man break down. Duo didn't cry, though. He sniffled a little, eyes looking a bit red and still watery.  
  
"I think we need to space ourselves from each other for a little while," Duo said, reaching up to rub at his face. "I just need to think about this for a bit. I do love you, Heero - so much that it hurts, but I need to think about my choices and determine if I can live with myself after either one has been decided on."  
  
Heero nodded. He did understand. It was similar to the advice Trowa had given him earlier about making sure any decision they came to was the right one that wouldn't be regretted later. "You know where I'll be when you're ready," Heero said. When Duo didn't say anything more, he turned and walked back out of the library. He walked back to the base in silence, deciding to find work to keep him busy.  
  
Before he had been sent to London, his American commanders had requested reports on the dynamics of the British Air Force, what he noticed of the Nazi fighters, and any information that could be utilized in the future. He had intentionally procrastinated - never being one to enjoy working on such tedious forms - but now seemed like the perfect time to get his mind distracted onto a different topic. One that had nothing to do with the beautiful braided man who still sat back in a cool leather chair of the London Library, deep in thought.  
  
Heero sat down at a desk that Colonel Marquise had designated as his office designated as his office during his stay on the base. He slid a piece of paper in the typewriter and immediately got to work.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 21 


	22. Part 22

+ Title: War Story - Part 22  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
Three days later had Eagle Squadron going around to the parts of the city that had suffered the most devastation and doing the more charitable parts that made up their role as London's guardians. They built temporary shelters for those whose homes had been destroyed, and gave out food and water for those who couldn't get their own.   
  
Mostly it was children left because the Nazis would go after the buildings where their parents worked. They would never bomb a school. Heero watched as Tiebald and O'Malley seemed to be caught up in a game of tag while Stock made hand gestures as a group of older boys asked questions about the fighters. Heero couldn't understand how their spirits could be so high when they had nothing left.   
  
One little girl, he noticed, sat next to who must have been her older sister. She held her sister's fingers in one hand and a tattered stuffed dog in the other. She never spoke to any of the others besides a quick whisper every now and then in her sister's ear.  
  
It was the elderly survivors, though, that stood around talking to Heero and Quatre about what they had seen in their lifetimes and the loved ones they had lost. One particular old woman who introduced herself as Granny Ruth had lost her husband in the First World War and all three of her sons in the Second. The only one she had left was a daughter who lived in the United States and hardly ever wrote.  
  
The hardships the people spoke of were almost unbelievable. They all spoke of lost love, and how they thanked God every morning for still having their life and their health, and all the experiences that had passed in their lifetime.  
  
Heero only partially listened - lost in his own thoughts. It had been three days since he last spoke to Duo, and that was their encounter in the library. Quatre had been prying for information, but gave up when he saw no signs of Heero yielding.   
  
During those three days Heero had received another letter from Relena, and he never opened it. He took everything he had contained in that box under his bed and burned it all in the airfield late one night. He hadn't particularly cared if any of his pilots looked out their window in wonder at what their crazy major was doing burning papers in the middle of the night. The letters weren't worth the trouble he caused.  
  
Heero had come to his own conclusions. Life without Duo would just be too boring. Duo added that extra spice in his life that he had been lacking up until then. Trowa had told Heero about his newfound belief in destiny, and Heero had to agree. It was fate for him and Duo to meet, for their loyalties to be pulled and tested in every way, shape, and form, but as the saying went, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, and they hadn't had any serious hindrances in their relationship up until a few days ago.  
  
'Now assuming this doesn't destroy us,' Heero thought, 'we should be able to pull through.'  
  
When they finished handing out supplies, Heero headed off in the direction of Duo's flat, determined to get things settled. Duo had wanted some space for a little while and, in Heero's opinion, three days had been plenty of time. As much as he respected Duo, he was becoming inpatient. The waiting was wearing thin on his nerves.  
  
He hoped Duo was home as he knocked on the door, glad when he heard the shuffle of feet and the lock clicking open. The door pulled back a bit, and Duo stood in front of him looking the worse for wear. He had dark shadows under his eyes and his hair looked bedraggled, falling out of his typically neat braid to frame his face.  
  
"I don't know if you're done thinking or not," Heero began, trying to keep the nervous tone out of his voice, "but the last three days have been a living hell not knowing if you were going to show up or not. I…" He struggled to find the right words. "I can't imagine living my life without you, Duo."  
  
The other man smiled, looking as if a large weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. "Good." He responded. "Because I've been doing a lot of thinking…and I figured out that my life just sucks when you aren't around, and it's more than just the company. I love you with every ounce of my being, and Relena be damned, I'll fight to the end if I have to."  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 22 


	23. Part 23

+ Title: War Story - Part 23  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
They made love with the same slow, deliberate tenderness as during their first physical union, taking the time to worship one another, which Heero found easier with his gained confidence.  
  
They proclaimed their love for each other upon reaching their mutual climaxes, and after the wave overcame them and the afterglow settled in, Heero bent his head forward to place kisses that traced along the edge of Duo's jaw line and down his neck to his collarbone.  
  
Duo ran his fingers through his lover's hair before reaching a bit lower to cup Heero's face in his hands, gently raising it so their gazes met. "You need to promise me something, okay Heero?"  
  
"Anything my life," he responded, his voice still deep with passion.  
  
Duo looked uncertain as he drew in a deep breath. He let it out slowly, returning his violet eyes back to Heero's deep blue. "Whatever happens, don't ever leave me. I know technically you can't be mine while you are legally bound to somebody else, but I need you so much that it hurts to think that someday you could leave and never come back. I need you to promise that you'll always be here for the rest of our lives."  
  
Heero smiled softly, kissing Duo gently on the forehead. "I promise, Duo, that I'll remain by your side no matter what." When a contented smile spread across his lover's features, Heero couldn't help but chuckle. "That sounded almost like a marriage vow."  
  
"Well, I'll take it if it's the best I can get," Duo laughed in response. His fingers entwined with Heero's as the pilot rested his head on the longhaired American's chest. "So how are we going to make this work?"  
  
[ "I don't know how you plan on breaking the news to Relena that you're leaving her for a man," Duo chided lightly.  
  
Heero sighed. "I'll come up with something once the time comes." He hugged Duo, stroking the mass of hair he'd suddenly found himself so fond of.   
  
"What if she suddenly turned up dead?"  
  
"Duo…"  
  
"All right. What if *you* suddenly turned up dead?" ]  
  
"What if I died?" Heero suggested.  
  
Duo's eyes comically widened. "I think the whole couldn't-be-together-in-life-so-they-killed-themselves-to-be-together-in-death scene is a little too drastic for my tastes."  
  
"But I thought you liked Shakespeare."  
  
Duo let out a short bark of a laugh. "Doesn't mean I'd be willing to kill myself to be with you, Romeo." He shook his head. "Really, some men and their egos…"  
  
"Just listen for a second." When Heero felt he had his lover's attention, he continued. "When a soldier dies in battle, it's the highest ranking authority's job to notify the family of what happened. The letter it filled with what a good, honorable man the soldier was and how he died fighting for a cause he believed in. The letters are printed on this certain paper that is printed by the country's government so it would be impossible to fake one."  
  
Duo seemed to catch onto the idea. "So then how would we fake one?"  
  
Heero smiled knowingly, "This base isn't big enough for every ranking officer to have their own office, so everyone shares one, which essentially means that Colonel Marquise and my office are in the same room. The cabinets are locked, but since I'm the acting commander, I have a key."  
  
"But the Air Force wouldn't have you officially marked as KIA and your family would get a letter saying you should be arriving home soon."  
  
"Not if I resign first. They don't need me here anymore, and there's no official documentation sent home for resignations during wartime. That way a family isn't embarrassed if the soldier resigned because he chickened out."  
  
"Or found a lover when he was stationed in another country," Duo supplied.  
  
"The problem is that Zechs could get discharged if anyone ever found out that he lied about a pilot's death to the family, so we'd have to get someone else who could write it. Somebody who would be could at over-exemplifying the achievements of the deceased…"  
  
Duo grinned widely. "In other words, me." He planted an eager kiss on Heero's lips. "I could go on and on about your accomplishments," he winked flirtatiously, "like how well you could handle that stick…"  
  
"Duo!" Heero coughed, feeling his face turn bright red from embarrassment at the not-so-subtle innuendo.  
  
"What? It's not like anyone else is around to hear."  
  
"I still don't need to think of flying that way."  
  
"Like you didn't already get hard every time you climbed into the cockpit." His expression sobered as he placed a hand on Heero's shoulder. "So are you going to get those papers?"  
  
"Yeah, when I go back."  
  
"We're not in any hurry, though," Duo said seductively as he traced his hand further down Heero's back. "We still have well into the evening. We can work on that letter tomorrow."  
  
"If I keep showing up to breakfast late the men are going to think I go out at night to pick up prostitutes."  
  
"Which can't be true because I haven't taken any money yet," the longhaired man stuck out his tongue playfully. "Although I can start a tab running if you want me to…"  
  
Duo was silenced with a deep kiss, moaning into Heero as the ground their bodies against each other, tongues meeting to duel for dominance. Heero was elated. He would be able to stay with Duo for the rest of his life. The plan was foolproof. And Relena wouldn't get too hurt because it would seem better for her to lose her husband as he was off fighting valiantly in the war opposed to sleeping with a man that he loved more.  
  
Heero broke the kiss, a thought jumping to mind. "Where would we live?"  
  
Duo shrugged languidly. "We could stay in London for a little while, wait for the war to cool down until we went anywhere. Do a little traveling, maybe. Travel throughout the world and end up in California. We're both too American to be content anywhere else, and that way we won't run into anybody from our past." He thought for a moment. "I'd still have to tell my parents that I'm okay, though. They won't mind, though. I think they'd like you." Duo grinned, becoming excited about their future together. "And maybe Quatre and Trowa would want to come with us."  
  
"Maybe," Heero responded, going back for another kiss as his hands strayed to touch as much of Duo as possible. He knew he'd never grow sick of being with the beautiful, intelligent man that he called his lover, and when they finally got to sleep that night, he dreamed of their life together after the war and wondered if Duo was doing the same.  
  
*~**~*  
  
End Part 23 


	24. Part 24

+ Title: War Story - Part 24  
  
+ Author: Vinyl Koneko (Emily), roguegirl@att.net  
  
+ Rating: R  
  
+ Couplings: 1xR, 1x2, 3x4  
  
+ Warnings: AU, WWII era, minor het, yaoi, historical fiction, drama, no Wufei   
  
+ Archive: Want it? Take it. Just give me credit, please.  
  
+ Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. If I did, well, let's just say the 1xR and 2xH fans wouldn't be so happy...  
  
+ Comments: // Written //, *emphasis*, 'thought', [ flashback ]. Heero POV. This story was written solely for the 1x2 AU Novella 25,000 Word Fic Challenge. Inspiration hit watching PBS on a lonely Saturday night and wouldn't let me rest until it was done. ^_^  
  
+ Summary: The year is 1942. Heero Yuy, a pilot for the United States Air Force, gets send to command a squadron in London. There he meets a literature student by the name of Duo Maxwell, and he learns sometimes it takes another person to figure out everything about yourself.  
  
*~**~*  
  
The next morning Heero resigned and, unexpectedly, Colonel Marquise understood. He allowed Heero to clean out his stuff in privacy, which gave Heero to time to sneak out the necessary forms for Duo to start working on the letter.  
  
Duo was back at his apartment working on drafts and trying to get the wording just right. Heero had persisted that it sounded official, and Duo had to take some time to develop a grave tone.  
  
Quatre and Trowa had wished him luck, saying how they'd visit when they could. Heero thanked them for all the help they had offered. He understood that without their friendship and support he and Duo would still be dodging each other.  
  
Heero took the bus back to Duo's place, gazing out the window at the city that went by. The old buildings next to the rubble provided an accurate metaphor about life that Heero couldn't help but ponder over. Inspiration hit, and he jotted some notes down on a scrap of paper that he found. All his old writings were back at home, never to be seen again, but he felt that this new idea might actually go somewhere.  
  
When Heero returned Duo was scratching away at a piece of paper with the fountain pen, jumping up in glee when he deemed it perfect. Heero wordlessly handed him the paper as Duo pulled a typewriter out from a box in his small kitchen, loading the sheets and immediately starting to type.  
  
// Dear Mrs. Yuy;  
  
It's my solemn duty to inform you that your husband, United States Air Force Major Heero Yuy, was killed in battle yesterday in the skies of London. Such a tragic loss will surely be felt through the world over at the death of such a fine, young pilot.  
  
Heero took his duty seriously, understanding that the lives of the men in the squadron rested in his decisions. He was a very capable and intelligent leader, and it is very unfortunate that his life should be lost when the end of the war has finally come in sight.  
  
Rest assured knowing that Heero died fighting for a cause he believed in. He did not only protect our city of London, but the generations who would grow up knowing the horrors of such a war. He provided them a sense of security, allowing the people to sleep at night knowing that somebody else was looking out for their families. I only wish that there is more I could do to help lessen the grief that you must surely be feeling.  
  
His personal effects shall be sent over to you as quickly as possible, but unfortunately we cannot send the body back to you for the proper funeral. The understanding of the military is that you are buried where you are killed, so Heero shall be joining the men that died while fighting with him in our beautiful, local cemetery.  
  
Once again, I am truly sorry for your loss. Heero was a great man, and he will be missed by all the lives he touched.  
  
Sincerely,  
  
Colonel Zechs Marquise  
  
British Air Force //  
  
Duo tore the paper out of the machine, handing it over for Heero's approval. He read it over quickly, giving Duo a lop-sided grin. "It's good. A little weird to be reading about my own death, but it'll work."  
  
His lover gave a playful scowl. "I've been slaving over that think all morning and all I get is 'it'll work'?"  
  
Heero embraced Duo in a tight hug, kissing the tip of his nose. "It's perfect. I wouldn't have expected anything less."  
  
"Yeah, sure," Duo waved his hand. "Start sucking up when you feel your chances of getting laid are threatened."  
  
"Well can you blame me?" Heero replied, which drew a smile from Duo.  
  
"No, I guess not." He rested his head on Heero's shoulder, momentarily content to stay in the embrace. "So, lover, what do you want to do now?"  
  
"I'm not in any hurry," Heero replied. "We *do* have the rest of our lives together, after all." He planted a kiss on Duo's lips. "And I'm going to make sure that you always know how much I love you."  
  
Duo smiled softly. "Mm, agreed." He mock-pouted. "Since you resigned already, does this mean no sex in your fighter?"  
  
"That would have been a little…tight."  
  
"That's the idea, though." A look of disbelief came across Duo's features when Heero didn't respond. "You mean you're a flyboy and that *isn't* your biggest fantasy?"  
  
"Hey, give me a break," Heero laughed, "I only found out recently that the *person* in my fantasies is male. I haven't even had the time to come up with any scenarios yet."  
  
"How about the library?"  
  
Heero would be lying if he didn't say that sparked his interest. The feel of the leather against his naked body, the potential of getting caught, the fact that they'd have to stay extremely quiet if they didn't want anybody to suspect something was up…  
  
"We'd have to find a spot that was a little more secluded."  
  
"Ah, so that *did* catch your interest?" Duo prodded, smiling delightedly. "How about the children's section?"  
  
"I don't think any parents would appreciate that."  
  
"But if we went when all the kids were at school…"  
  
"…Then you might be onto something," Heero responded, not believing he was taking part in this conversation. Before he met Duo he never would have even *thought* about something like this.  
  
The sound of a stomach growling filled the air, and Duo laughed embarrassedly. "Maybe some breakfast first would be a good idea, though."  
  
Heero smiled. "Our first breakfast together." He reluctantly released his hold on Duo, proceeding over to the kitchen. "I'll make whatever you want."  
  
"He reads Shakespeare, he's great in bed, *and* he cooks." Duo sighed dreamily. "My mother will be so happy for me."   
  
Heero decided not to comment, looking through the refrigerator instead. "Duo, you don't have any food."  
  
The longhaired American scratched his head thoughtfully. "Well will you look at that… There's a pancake house down the street a little ways if you're interested."  
  
Heero nodded, warming up to the idea. "All right, but afterwards we're going to the store because I'm at least going to make you dinner."  
  
"Don't worry, love," Duo responded, bending over slightly to place a kiss on Heero's temple, "I won't try to stop you."  
  
*~**~*  
  
Owari  
  
A/N: Yes, there is a historical premise to this fic, being that during World War II the wives of the soldiers were afraid of the British women stealing their husbands. I heard this little tidbit on a WWII documentary narrated by Martin Sheen (don't remember the name of the series), and was automatically inspired, even though it required me having 1xR in the story to some degree. I'm sorry if I butchered history in any way, shape, or form. I tried to be accurate but seeing how it's a 1x2 fic I didn't really want the war to be the key focus, hence the rewriting of history. I also know that Heero and Duo's plan to be together wouldn't really work in the real world, but this is my world, and things go as I say. Thanks for reading! 


End file.
